A Little Stray
by CarlieD
Summary: William and Mairead Potter had resigned themselves to a life without a child, trying to lose their pain in their travels as a diplomatic couple. But one evening in Paris, their lives would change forever when they encountered a hurting little boy…
1. Prologue

**A LITTLE STRAY**

_William and Mairead Potter had resigned themselves to a life without a child, trying to lose their pain in their travels as a diplomatic couple. But one evening in Paris, their lives would change forever when they encountered a hurting little boy…_

DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of Harry Potter or its people, places and ideas.

**Prologue**

_May 10, 1930:_

17-year-old Mairead Maguire laughed and twirled around, her sparkling green eyes watching her dress twirl with her in the mirror. The day had finally arrived: she was finally getting married to the love of her life.

Her mother and father and brothers were still complaining about the fact William was English, and not Irish, like a good Irish Purist like her ought to have married. But they couldn't deny that William was a good man, even if he _was_ English, and he would be well able to provide for Mairead and their children, when they came. She and William had decided long ago that they wanted children right away, while they were still young. To imagine, a year from now, she could be holding her first child…

_

* * *

_

May 10, 1932:

"Hush, darling," 24-year-old William Potter soothed softly, holding his wife close as she sobbed. "We'll just have to keep trying, Mairead. It'll happen. It'll happen."

"But it was supposed to work this time, William," 19-year-old Mairead cried, burying her face into his shoulder. "They _told_ me it would work."

"Then we'll go back to the Healers. We'll have them run some more tests, darling. Maybe they missed something." William kissed her. "My love for you is not conditional upon your having a baby, Mairead."

"But I just want a child," Mairead cried. "I even took the potion, and you know I don't take potions at all. Why is it too much to ask for one little baby?"

"I know, darling, I know," William murmured.

_

* * *

_

May 10, 1933:

"Now, Mrs. Potter, just a few quick questions for you," Healer Delgado said. "How long have you been having these physical symptoms – the fatigue, the nausea, the dizziness?"

20-year-old Mairead bit her lip, one hand clinging tightly to her 25-year-old husband's. "About a year or two, I'd say, maybe even longer. Some days are worse than others."

"And you didn't report any of that to your first Healer?" Delgado asked.

"Well, no, I thought it was colds, flus, nothing serious," Mairead replied. "A couple of times, I thought it might be pregnancy…" she trailed off and William's hand tightened around hers.

"Have you experienced any sort of magical symptoms – loss of skills, loss of ability?"

Mairead thought for a moment. "It's been taking a little longer than usual to do anything magically," she offered.

"Mm-hmm," Delgado said, marking something down on the chart. "Mrs. Potter, you're of Irish descent, is that correct?"

"Yes, I was born and raised in Ayn's Cove," Mairead said. "Is that pertinent to something?"

"Is your family pureblood?"

"Yes, Irish Purists," Mairead replied. "What's this all about?"

"You don't happen to know if there's a history of Ceara's Malady in your family, do you?"

Mairead paled. "You don't think I have Ceara's?" she asked hoarsely.

"You're displaying textbook symptoms, Mrs. Potter. Ceara's Malady strikes primarily female Irish purebloods, and it usually surfaces around the late teens, early twenties. I'm sorry to have to tell you, but women who are stricken with Ceara's Malady…"

"Can't have children," Mairead finished dully. "Not to mention a reduced lifespan." She felt William's hand tighten around hers.

"Normally, that _is_ the case. Can't explain why, but I've seen women live sixty years after being diagnosed and I've seen women who barely made sixty days after diagnosis. It's hard to say what determines your lifespan."


	2. In Their Travels

A/N: Somebody was watching Aurore when she came up with this plot...

**

* * *

**

Chapter 1: In Their Travels

_Moscow, 1959:_

51-year-old William sighed. "So, are you sure it's quite all right that this new boy at the Consulate stays here?"

46-year-old Mairead nodded, pulling her hair up and away from her face. "How old is he?" she asked.

"I reckon he's about late twenties," William replied. "Only thing is, he's changed his mind on just him coming. Apparently he's decided to take his wife and two sons with him."

Mairead stopped fussing with her hair for a moment. "Really? How old?"

"Quite young, still babies. I suppose that's why he changed his mind." William paused and rubbed her shoulders. "Are you sure it's still all right?"

"Yes, yes, well, we can't very well back out on him now any way," Mairead said quickly. She bit her lip. "Must they all rub it in?" she asked softly, letting him lean in and kiss her neck.

"Hopefully, they won't be here that long, darling," William murmured.

_

* * *

_

Madrid, 1961:

"Sirius! Sirius, don't you _dare_ run off like that again!" 27-year-old Walburga Black shrieked, catching her 3-year-old son's arm. "Merlin, how's a person supposed to keep an eye on you if you keep disappearing like that? You just wait until your father gets here, he'll take the running out of you!"

48-year-old Mairead sighed and watched her, all while playing with 2-year-old Regulus. She rather liked Sirius, found him much more interesting than Regulus – likely, she preferred him because he was more like she imagined little boys ought to be, and that was not what Orion and Walburga wanted out of their two sons.

"There, go play with Mrs. Potter for a while," Walburga sighed tiredly, releasing Sirius and scooping up Regulus. "Merlin, what did I do in a past life to deserve you?"

"Oh, come here, Sirius," Mairead laughed, holding out an arm. "Poor little mite, you just want to explore, don't you?"

"Well, it's _new_, Mrs. Potter," Sirius said innocently. "I never seen it before. I just want to look."

"Yes, I know," Mairead said. "You'll likely go out soon, your mother's going to want a house for your family, not a flat here at the Consulate. Little boys need room to run around, you know."

"But you and Mr. Potter stay here at the Cons-ate," Sirius said questioningly.

"Yes, but we don't have a little boy who likes to run around," Mairead said.

"That's true," Sirius amended. "I wish you did, though. I should like to have a playmate who's not my brother. Regulus is rather boring."

_

* * *

_

Paris, November 1962:

"Mairead, are you feeling quite up to this dinner tonight, darling?" 54-year-old William asked worriedly, stroking her face gently. "I can always go by myself. Don't force yourself if you're not well."

49-year-old Mairead looked at him tiredly. "I haven't been well for thirty-plus years, William. I can handle the dinner."

"You're sure?" William asked again. "You don't have to go, darling."

"Really, William, I'll be fine," Mairead insisted.

"You're sure?"

* * *

"_Monseigneur, vos invités anglais sont arrivés_," (Monseigneur, your English guests have arrived) one young servant girl said politely to somebody just inside the grand parlour. "_Monsieur, Madame,_ eef you want to follow me, _Monseigneur_ eez waiting een zee parlour for you."

"_Merci_, _mademoiselle_," Mairead told her kindly. The girl's face momentarily lit up.

"Ah, _Monsieur et Madame Potter!_" Monseigneur, well known to the English Consulate of Magical Affairs as Sir Henri-Richard des Perreaults-de-Champagne, stood up and welcomed them warmly. "Wonderful to see you both out tonight. I trust I find you well? What a shame that the Blacks could not join us."

"Yes, their boys have come down with an illness of some sort," Mairead replied with a small smile; truth of the matter was that Orion and Walburga would rather die than set Sirius loose in this magnificent mansion, and Orion couldn't very well show up alone. Nobody in the Consulate here in Paris were willing to watch their boys for the night, Sirius having terrorized them all within the first week of their arrival.

"Ah, yes, well, children are well known for that," Henri-Richard replied jovially. "Now, where's that lovely wife of mine? _Diane, cherchez Madame_," (Diane, go get Madame) he addressed the young servant girl.

"_Oui, Monseigneur,_" the girl replied and left. Moments later, she reappeared with Henri-Richard's beautiful young wife, Micheline, who smiled and gave a nod of recognition to William and Mairead as she joined them.

"_Diane,_ _allez soigner à Jacques-Antoine,_" (Diane, go tend to Jacques-Antoine) Micheline ordered abruptly. The girl nodded quickly and left, though not before Mairead caught a flash of… something in the girl's eyes. A mixture of fear, maybe, and despair?

"I'm sorry," Micheline said, bringing Mairead back to the conversation at hand. "Our son's not at his best tonight, he had an unfortunate accident earlier today. I'm afraid he won't be able to join us."

"Oh, that's understandable, it seems boys are quite well-known for those unfortunate accidents," William assured them.

"Aren't they," Henri-Richard muttered.

* * *

After dinner, Mairead went in search of a bathroom, and ran across the little servant girl Diane coming out from one door, where she could hear a little boy's whimpers of pain. Off-hand, she would've said that the boy couldn't have been any older than four, same age as Sirius Black.

_"Pauvre petit…"_ (Poor little one...) Diane was saying softly, when she noticed Mairead watching the door with a frown. _"Madame_, she doesn't like potions. Surely you of all people understand. You come from _une famille puriste_, no?"

"Yes, I do," Mairead agreed quietly. "I still think children shouldn't be made to hurt when it's within our power to stop their pain."

"No, no, they should not," Diane murmured.

The torment in the poor girl's eyes tugged at Mairead's heart – she couldn't have been any older than 15. "What happened?" she asked quietly.

"I do not know," the girl said softly.

Mairead had the feeling that there was something darker, something far more sinister than just a little boy who had an accident.

"_Excusez-moi_, _Madame_," Diane said quickly and she left rapidly, swiping at tears as she went. Mairead paused at the closed door, where the whimpers, and now sobs, were still audible. Then she pushed it open.

Inside, it was a dark room, and far less lavish than the rooms Mairead had seen elsewhere in the house. The light was dim, lit by only a dying candle in a corner. A mat was spread in the middle of the room, and a small boy, trembling and crying, lay upon it.

Surely this wasn't Jacques-Antoine. This wasn't the only child of such wealth. Mairead came over softly and knelt down, horrified to see that this had been no mere accident. This had been a beating – great welts on his face and arms, clothes torn and bloodied. "Jacques?" she asked softly.

"_Non, non, laissez-moi, j'ai rien fait!_" (No, no, leave me alone, I haven't done anything!) he sobbed.

"Poor little mite," she said softly, gently brushing a lock of matted black hair out of his eyes. "What happened to you?"

"_Maman, Maman, non!_" he sobbed again. "_Arretez, Maman!_" (Stop, Maman!)

Mairead's heart froze.


	3. The Battle For A Child

_EDIT A/N (June 20): Translations provided upon request of a reviewer. Sorry, guys, I've been in French Immersion my entire life and when I originally wrote this, it was for a friend who also speaks French. Didn't occur to me to put translations. I've put it in for the longer phrases: the basic French vocabulary or single words that are close enough to their English counterparts (such as 'famille puriste' in the previous chapter - 'Purist family') I didn't bother. So things like 'oui', 'non', 'Maman', 'Papa'... those aren't translated. Also, sentences that are repeated in English by the character haven't been translated, didn't see the point in it. This is mostly done by Mairead._

**Chapter 2: The Battle For A Child**

_Hôpital magical de Paris, December 13, 1962:_

Mairead sighed as she gently brushed her fingers through Jacques' hair. It was so silky, so jet-black once it was cleaned. It seemed to her like it simply could not be straightened, no matter what people did.

Jacques seemed quite content just to sit there, in her lap, and let her comb through his hair. He was starting to get a little wiggly, though, acting a little more like the four-year-old that he was – he had just turned four last week.

It still sickened her to think of what this little boy had gone through in his short life. How his parents hadn't appreciated what a little gem they had, choosing instead to treat him like a source of anger, and taking out that anger on him.

He had such a wonderful smile, Mairead thought fondly as Jacques twisted around to look at her, the tiniest of smiles on his face. And such big hazel eyes, with such long lashes… he might've been the cutest little boy on this earth, Mairead decided as she gave him a hug. He was just so warm and cuddly, she could hold him and hug him all day.

"You are so adorable," she whispered to him. He didn't speak a word of English, they'd discovered early on. He didn't understand a word she said to him, but she hoped he could hear the love in her voice and that it would start to heal his wounded heart.

"Mairead, how are you doing?" William asked quietly as he came in, face tired and clothes rumpled. Wearily, he sank down onto the bed next to her, giving her a perfunctory kiss.

"We're fine, William," Mairead replied. "You ought to go back home and sleep for a while."

"Mairead, you've been here for a month straight," William pointed out. "Come back to the Consulate with me."

"One more night won't hurt me, William," Mairead said gently. "The Healers said he can be released tomorrow."

"Parisian Magical Child Protective Services is letting us foster him for the duration," William said tiredly. "But I think the Consulate isn't quite liking that we've landed one of France's most prominent wizarding figures in jail. I suspect they'll be sending us back to England soon."

"But Jacques can't come back to England with us, he's not English," Mairead said desperately. "We can't leave him here, William, we can't."

"I thought you'd gotten attached to him," William sighed, lying back onto the mattress and pillow. "Mairead, do you realize how complicated it is to have an international adoption? And when they've got plenty of French families willing to take him, we'd have to go to court. This could drag on for months, even a year or two."

Mairead felt the beginning of tears pricking at her eyes. "William, we've been waiting for thirty-two years for a child. You don't think another year matters? We have the money to stay here until everything is finished, you _know_ we do."

"Oh, Mairead…" William sat up. "I know how you feel. But what happens if we go through all of that, only to have them tell us no? We've got a lot of disadvantages against us, darling. Our age, for one. Most couples our age are starting to think of grandkids, not kids. My position with the Consulates. Your illness. Nationalities."

"Don't make me give him up, William," Mairead said tearfully. "Not you. Let the courts, if you will, but don't _you_ dare make me give him up."

* * *

"Sirius, be gentle with the lad, would you?" Walburga sighed wearily as she set down Regulus. Sirius had immediately bee-lined for Mairead when the Blacks had arrived at the Consulate. Jacques was still rather gun-shy, choosing to hide himself behind Mairead's legs and wrapping himself into the skirts of her robes. He was peeking out curiously at the new arrivals, though Sirius' sheer exuberance seemed to be intimidating him for the moment.

"Won't you come out and play?" Sirius asked cheerfully. "I don't bite. Least, not people I don't know. I've bitten my brother from time to time, but he deserved it every time."

Mairead laughed and knelt down, bringing Jacques around to the front gently. "Jacques doesn't know English, Sirius, so he won't understand you," she said.

"Well, that's all right," Sirius replied. "You don't need to talk to play."

"Don't be rough with him, Sirius," Walburga warned when Sirius caught Jacques' hand eagerly and Jacques jumped momentarily, frightened eyes looking at Mairead.

"_C'est correct, Jacques, il veut jouer,_" (It's all right, Jacques, he wants to play) Mairead assured him gently. "_Vas-t-en, bonhomme. Je serais tout près._" (Go ahead, bonhomme (let's call this a term of endearment, for lack of better translation). I'll be nearby.)

Jacques hesitated and then he whispered to her, "_Est-ce que je peux courir?_" (Can I run?)

Mairead smiled and laughed. "_Oui, oui, vas courir._" (Yes, yes, go run.)

Jacques gave her that million-dollar smile of his again and he took off with Sirius.

* * *

"Mrs. Potter," the French lawyer said confidently, with a slight smirk on his face as Mairead sat up on the witness stand. "I wonder if you might answer a few questions for me."

"Certainly, that's what I'm up here for," Mairead replied with a small smile to the undercurrent of titters.

"Now, according to our records, you are approaching your fifties, correct?"

"Yes, I'm 49," Mairead replied.

"You know, when my parents were 49, my wife and I were expecting our first child. Most women your age are waiting for grandchildren, not wanting to raise a little boy. What makes you think that you are capable of properly caring for this little one?"

"It's funny. Nobody seems to ask people that question if they're having the baby themselves," Mairead commented. "Perhaps if we did, there should be a lot less children in Jacques' position, yes?"

"Doubtless though that may be true, Mrs. Potter, I asked you a question. You're not a young woman, Mrs. Potter, and if I read your records correctly, you also were diagnosed with Ceara's Malady a number of years ago?"

"Yes, that's true," Mairead replied.

"Why would you even consider taking in Jacques-Antoine? How could you promise him a mother for his life, knowing that you could die at any time?"

Mairead paused. "Sir, you mentioned you had a child?"

"Yes, I have three," the lawyer replied, a tone of confusion in his voice.

"And you can swear to your children that you'll be there for their lives? You, too, sir, can die at any time."

* * *

_December 2, 1963:_

"Jacques! Jacques, come have your snack, sweetheart," Mairead called, smiling as the little boy came scrambling into the kitchen and up into his chair. "There you are."

"_Maman_?" Jacques asked, taking a bite of his apple slice.

"Yes, sweetheart?" Mairead asked, feeling the same thrill that she always had when he called her '_Maman'_: Mummy.

"_Maman,_ you come with me? _Demain_?" he questioned. The poor boy – he'd been trying so hard to learn his English this year, and he certainly had improved, but he was still so far behind other boys his age and often reverted back to French when he didn't know the English vocabulary or was overemotional.

Mairead sighed and combed her fingers through his hair again. "Yes, I'll come with you tomorrow. _Mais quand ils te parlent, tu dois aller tout seul. _I'll wait for you when it's done." (French: But when they're talking to you, you have to go by yourself.)

"_Mais je veux pas aller tout seul, Maman_," (But I don't want to go by myself, Maman) Jacques protested. "Come with me."

"I can't, sweetheart, I'm sorry," Mairead said softly, taking him into her arms when she caught the beginnings of tears in his eyes. "I'll be right there when you're done."

"Come with me," Jacques begged, burying his face into her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Jacques, I can't," she whispered again.

* * *

"_Madame_, we need to take him into the courtroom now," the bailiff said gently. Jacques disappeared behind Mairead's skirts again, clinging desperately to her.

"Jacques," Mairead chided gently. Jacques shook his head.

"_Non, non, je veux pas,_" (No, no, I don't want to) Jacques whimpered. "_Disez-les que je ne viens pas._" (Tell them that I'm not coming)

"_Madame_…" the bailiff repeated uneasily.

"One moment, _monsieur_," Mairead sighed, kneeling down to face Jacques. "I'm going to be waiting right outside, Jacques. Here." She had thought this might happen, so she was prepared. Mairead took out a boxed Chocolate Frog and smiled when she saw Jacques' eyes light up. "You can have it when you're finished. _Quand tu es fini, Jacques._ But here, you hold onto the card, okay?" She gave him the card and Jacques took it, slipping it into one of his pockets. "Now go with _monsieur_ here." This time, Jacques nodded and let the bailiff lead him away. Biting her lower lip, Mairead took up her position by the doors to the courtroom, where she could hear some of the women on the jury coo about _'le mignon petit bonhomme' _(the cute little boy) as the door closed resolutely. Her poor little Jacques, he was still so small, and so easily intimidated. He was far too young to be going on the witness stand. But at least William was in there: should it be too much, he would be right there to run to.

* * *

"_Maman,_ _fini_!" (Maman, finished!) Jacques announced eagerly as he dashed out of the courtroom, to the laughs of the people inside. "Now my chocolate?"

Mairead laughed and caught him as he launched himself at her. "That's good, Jacques," she said, giving him the chocolate as promised and lifted him up into her arms. Kissing his cheek, she asked, "Was it terribly frightening? _Effrayant?_"

Jacques nodded, but then tried to shake his head at the same time. "_Je suis un bien gros gars, Maman._" (I'm a very big boy, Maman)

Mairead smiled and loosened his tie. "I know, but even _les bien gros gars_ get frightened."

Through a mouthful of chocolate, Jacques replied, "I was, _un petit peu_. _Ils sont tous grands, et moi je suis tout petit. _And he was very loud and angry." (French: ... a little bit. They're all big, and I'm very little)

"You're very brave to have done that, you know," Mairead told him. "_Très courageux._"

"_Mais la carte_," Jacques said, pulling out the Chocolate Frog card from his pocket. Mairead could see where the poor little lad had been so scared he had worried away at the corners. "_L'homme sur la carte, il a l'air gentil. Il a resté là pendant tous les questions._" (But the card... the man on the card, he looks nice. He stayed there during all the questions)

Mairead took the card from his sweaty, sticky little-boy palm, looking at the picture. A jovial, white-haired man waved from the frame, gentle smile and laughing eyes behind his half-moon glasses.

"Who that, _Maman_?" Jacques asked.

Mairead smiled. "That's Albus Dumbledore, sweetheart. _Le directeur à l'école magical anglais_." (The headmaster of the English magic school)

"_Est-ce qu'il est vraiment gentil, Maman_?" (Is he really nice, Maman?)

"Oh, yes, sweetheart," Mairead affirmed. "_Papa_ sees him sometimes, when we're in England for work. He taught _Papa_ when he was in school."

"Teach me too?" Jacques asked innocently.

* * *

Mairead passed Jacques' sleeping form to William as he stopped pacing around the room momentarily. Having been relieved of her load, Mairead collapsed onto the couch. "Merlin, this must be what labour feels like," she sighed, pain shooting up her back: her back had been her achy area lately, and carrying Jacques all day today hadn't helped either. "All the waiting."

William sighed as well, resettling Jacques more comfortably against his chest. "I don't know how we'll handle it if we lose," he murmured, watching the little boy's peaceful expression. "I don't know how _he'll_ take it if we lose."

The door opening woke up Jacques, who jumped instinctively and then calmed, cuddling closer to William.

The Irish lawyer who had argued their case stepped in. He smiled at them and then said, "The jury's reached a decision." He shuffled around in his briefcase for a moment for a paper, which he then read. "We, the jury, find in favour of William Michael and Mairead Ailish Potter. Let it be recorded that they are now full guardians of minor Jacques-Antoine Louis David Philippe Christophe des Perreaults-de-Champagne, with all the privileges and responsibilities associated."

"What mean?" Jacques asked drowsily, reaching for Mairead. Mairead took him from William, saying with tears in her eyes,

"That means that you can stay with _Papa _and I forever."

"Oh," Jacques yawned, settling his little head onto her shoulder. "_D'accord._" (Okay)


	4. A Family At Last

**Chapter 3: A Family At Last**

_December 5, 1963:_

"So if Jacques is going to be English now, shouldn't he have an English name?" Sirius asked matter-of-factly, looking up from where he had been playing toy dragons with Jacques. Jacques' fifth birthday was today, the dragons had been his birthday present from William and Mairead, and Sirius had brought his own dragons to add to their little dragon colony. "It's awful French, Jacques."

"English now," Jacques corrected with a somewhat confused frown: Mairead had the idea that he hadn't quite caught the meaning of the whole question. "Not French, English."

"I know," Sirius told him, "but your name is French."

"English," Jacques repeated, looking at Mairead in bewilderment.

"You don't understand me," Sirius said.

Jacques paused and looked back at Sirius, trying to figure out what he'd said. Finally, he said, "No."

Sirius grinned. "So long as we've got _that_ straight. Pass me that Norwegian Ridgeback, that's mine. Father only just brought it home for me, he'll have my hide if I lose it."

Jacques frowned at him again.

"_Norvégien bossu, Jacques, c'est à Sirius,_"Mairead told him. Jacques' face split into an 'ah-ha!' expression and he promptly passed it to Sirius. "Don't worry, Jacques, you'll get the hang of this English thing. We're a rather complicated language."

"But don't you think I'm right, though?" Sirius persisted, looking at Mairead.

* * *

"_Maman_," Jacques asked later that night, climbing up into her lap. "_Qu'est-ce que Sirius disait? _I didn't know," (What was Sirius saying?) he added hopefully, as if to win her with his mastery of another English phrase. As if he needed to win her over – she was literally incapable of saying no to him.

Mairead sighed and cuddled with him for a while before she said, "_Il demandait si tu devrais avoir un nom anglais et non pas français._" (He was asking if you should have an English name and not a French one)

"English, not French," Jacques said.

"Yes, that's right," Mairead agreed.

"What Jacques English?" Jacques asked.

"James," Mairead replied.

"So I James, not Jacques?"

"If that's what you want," Mairead said. "_Papa _and I can arrange that."

Jacques – or James now, she supposed – nodded. "When we go England?"

"Soon, sweetheart," Mairead replied. "We're going to Ireland first. Granddad and Grandmam Maguire would like to meet you. They're quite excited, you know."

* * *

"James, don't run too far ahead, sweetheart!" Mairead called as James dashed up the walkway to the expansive Maguire estates eagerly. James paused and bounced from one foot to the other while waiting for them to catch up, still carrying the little cage that held the toy dragon Mairead had let him bring – he was going to be by far the littlest one here, since the youngest of her nieces and nephews was finishing school this year, and the ones who had children around James' age weren't going to be there today.

"Come _on_!" he called impatiently. Now _that_ English phrase he learnt very quickly from Sirius the Impatient.

William laughed. "We're coming, James, calm down."

"Come _on_!" James repeated, eyes sparkling as William caught him up into his arms and attacked him with hugs. He giggled hysterically and tried valiantly to escape, finally managing to wiggle down and take off again.

William put an arm around his wife's waist. "Are you happy, my love?" he murmured into her ear.

Mairead snuggled against his side. "Yes," she replied happily.

* * *

"Look at you, such a handsome young lad!" Orla Maguire cooed as she smiled at the small boy hiding himself behind her daughter's skirts. "Come out, I won't bite. You must be Jacques."

"James," the little boy's accented voice corrected softly, wide eyes watching her with mild uncertainty. "James Potter."

"Yes, that's right, I remember your mam telling me you changed your name. I'm sorry, you must be James. Now come here and let Grandmam take a good look at you," she repeated, holding out one hand patiently. At least William and Mairead had forewarned them that he was often slow to respond to new people, particularly adults and especially women.

"Go on, James, it's all right," Mairead said gently, nudging James out from behind her. Cautiously, James stepped forward, one hand holding his dragon cage and the other buried into his pocket, where Mairead knew his worn Chocolate Frog card was hiding. The poor boy had kept it in his pocket ever since he'd left France, still worrying away at the edges when he was anxious.

"What's this in here, dear?" Orla asked, going to take the cage from James.

"Dragon," James said softly, pronouncing it the French way. "_Gallois__ vert_," he added, taking the dragon out from the cage to show Orla. Carefully, his little hands placed the toy into hers, hazel eyes never leaving her face.

"Ah, a Common Welsh Green," Orla said with a laugh, watching the miniature toy in awe. The children had such amazing toys these days, when her own children had been young there hadn't been anything like these. "We have some of those around here. The real ones."

She smiled and gave the toy back as James started chattering rapidly in French, a smile starting to appear on his face.

"He's learning," Mairead laughed when her mother looked at her questioningly. "His language is about a quarter English now." She said something in French quickly to James.

* * *

James enjoyed himself immensely in Ireland. It didn't take very long before he had his grandparents, aunts and uncles and cousins wrapped around his little finger.

Mairead's 25-year-old nephew Jude Maguire, who was a Chaser on the Irish national Quidditch team and the only other person in the Maguire family who could speak decent French (having played with the French national team for two years), took James along with him to a practice and let him come flying with him. Galen McArthur, the Seeker, let him play with the Snitch for a while.

James came back home hooked. He happily chattered away to Mairead and William the entire night about every single minute of the practice.

"_Et puis, quand le Chercheur a libéré l'Or volant, je l'ai attrapé en premier!_" (And then, when the Seeker released the Snitch (I've taken liberties with the Quidditch terms, I'm not sure what they're called in the French books), I caught it first!) he finished triumphantly, eyes sparkling as Mairead tucked him into bed.

"That's wonderful, sweetheart," Mairead told him.

"_Je vais être Chercheur un jour,_" (I'm going to be Seeker one day) James informed her. "For England."

"I'm sure you will be, James," Mairead laughed, kissing his forehead. "Go to sleep now. We leave for England tomorrow."

James yawned and curled up to sleep. "Yes, _Maman_."

* * *

William's father Michael was just as taken with his new grandson as Mairead's family was. However, he was a little more pragmatic.

"Did you just Anglicize his entire name?" he asked.

"Good heavens, no!" William laughed. "Cut four names out of it." He smiled as James reached to be picked up and obliged. "Tell Grandfather what your English name is, James."

"James Phillip Potter," James announced promptly, giggling when William kissed his forehead and ruffled his hair.

"So does he actually have English citizenship?" Michael asked.

"We're working on it. Right now he's still a French citizen living abroad," Mairead replied. "It'll take a few years before it's finalized."

"Definitely before school, then?" Michael guessed. "I'm assuming you want to send him to Hogwarts, not to Beauxbatons."

"I'm not sending him back to that awful country for anything," Mairead said indignantly. "Of course he'll be going to Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts," James echoed his mother, "when I'm eleven."

"Yes, that's right, darling," Mairead replied, kissing his cheek.

* * *

Mairead moaned as she was awakened by James climbing over her to curl up under the covers. "James, what's wrong?"

"_Est-ce que je peux aller dans tes bras?_" (Can I come cuddle with you?) James whispered fearfully, the tears on his face evident in the moonlight.

"Of course, sweetheart, come here," Mairead said, pulling him into her arms and cuddling him closely. "The nightmares will stop, James. They won't stay forever. _Maman_ is here. I won't leave you."

"_Elle m'attaquait,_" (She was attacking me) James whimpered, burying his face into her shoulder. "_Elle… elle… elle…_"

"She's gone, baby, she's gone," Mairead soothed, rocking him gently. "_Elle ne reviendra jamais. Papa et Maman te protegeront._" (She'll never come back. Papa and Maman will protect you)

* * *

_Venice, December 1966:_

"James, Sirius!" 53-year-old Mairead called into the courtyard of the English Consulate from the door leading to their flat. "Come inside for dinner!"

Her 8-year-old son and his best friend stopped their playing. Both boys' clothes were grass-stained and any exposed skin was dirtied. James' knees were scraped and Sirius had a scratch on his cheek. Merlin, little boys were such rough-and-tumble creatures – but she wouldn't change it for the world.

Mairead laughed. "What have you two been doing all afternoon that you're in such a state?" She brushed some dirt and grass out of James' hair and from Sirius' shirt. "Sirius, you go change into some of James' clothes and I'll get yours cleaned up before you go home tomorrow. Your mother would have a fit if she saw you like this. James, you change into clean clothes as well."

"Yeah, she would throw a tantrum," Sirius agreed mischievously as the two boys dashed inside.

"And both of you, scrub your hands and faces!" Mairead called after them warningly. "You're not eating with dirt all over you!"

* * *

William and Mairead rolled their eyes at each other. They could barely get a word in edgewise between James and Sirius' animated conversation.

"What were you two doing all afternoon?" William finally managed to ask, eyes laughing.

"We were playing Quidditch," James replied. "Except without the brooms."

"Or the balls," Sirius added.

"It looked more like brawling to me," Mairead teased.

"Well, what else is left of Quidditch after you lose the brooms and the balls?" James said with a sparkling grin.

Mairead couldn't help herself. She burst out laughing.

* * *

"Don't forget your appointment with the Healer tomorrow," William said softly to her after she sent the boys off to bed.

"I know, William," she replied, equally as soft.

"Don't lie to him this time," he ordered, wrapping his arms around her waist. "If there's something wrong, tell him."

Mairead bit her lip. She was getting tired more quickly lately, and her magic was weakening. The Ceara's was advancing, and it scared her. She didn't want to hear the professional say it, for fear he could pin it down to a deadline. Literally.

William kissed her cheek lightly. "Don't worry so much about it, Mairead. We'll take it as it comes."

* * *

Evidently the 'Quidditch' had tired both boys out. They were out cold on the floor of James' bedroom, tangled into their separate sleeping bags.

Mairead smiled softly and knelt down, straightening out James' sleeping bag and brushing a lock of hair out of his face. She kissed his forehead lightly. "I love you, darling," she whispered to him.

"_Je t'aime, Maman,_" James mumbled sleepily back to her before he curled up tighter to continue his slumber.

Sighing, Mairead straightened out Sirius' sleeping bag and then crept silently back out of the bedroom.

* * *

Mairead stared at the Healer in horrified shock. "You can't be serious," she said weakly.

"I'm afraid so, Mrs. Potter," the Healer said gently. "Your Ceara's is advancing very quickly now. My most generous estimate is five years."

"No," Mairead said, shaking her head. "No, it can't be. I have an 8-year-old son, Healer DiAlessandro. I can't die when he's only 13."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Potter."

* * *

Mairead forced the diagnosis out of her mind as she collected James from the Blacks' home, putting on a smile and a laugh as James excitedly recounted everything about his morning.

When he stopped briefly to breathe, she quickly jumped in. "So, my darling, would you like to go out for lunch?"

"Yes, please," James answered happily. "Where are we going, Mum?"

"Oh, I thought perhaps we would go pick up Dad from the Consulate and go out to one of the cafes," Mairead replied.

"Can we go to the café that had the really good gelato?" James asked eagerly.

"Of course, sweetheart," Mairead said, ruffling his hair affectionately.

* * *

Mairead couldn't help but laugh as she watched James ask William if he would join them – they made quite the picture. William – getting on in years, smooth blonde hair streaked more than just a hint of grey and white, his robes immaculate and very smart; and James – eager and young, hopelessly windblown jet-black hair, clothes rumpled and already with a grass stain or two from play.

"Mum says we'll go to that café we went to last time," James said excitedly, one hand holding onto William's sleeve. "Will you come, Dad, will you?"

"Certainly I'll come, James," William laughed, ruffling his hair and giving him a quick kiss. "Just let me finish here and then I'll be right out."

"Oh, that's quite all right, William, I think we're done here for the morning, at least," came an amused English voice from inside his office.

"You're welcome to join us, sir, if you wish," William offered.

"Well, I'd like that very much if it's not an imposition," and out from the office came Albus Dumbledore in all his commanding glory. James' eyes went huge and he was momentarily struck dumb by being in the very presence of the man who had been somewhat of a hero for him ever since that day in the courtroom, when he had gotten the Chocolate Frog card.

* * *

Dumbledore laughed as James chattered excitedly to the three adults, stopping only when he had no more air and needed to take a deep breath. "He's quite the elocutionist, isn't he?" he said in amusement to William and Mairead.

"This is nothing," Mairead laughed in reply. "Wait until you get him and Sirius Black in the same room. Now that's elocution."

"_C'est quoi ça_, elocution?" James asked curiously, looking at her.

"Talking, James," William replied. "It means you chatter too much. Eat your lunch before it gets cold."

"I do not chatter too much," James said stoutly, though he ceased his flow of words and started to eat his pizza again.

"So how old are you now, James?" Dumbledore asked.

"I'm eight," James said through a mouthful of pizza. "My birthday was yesterday. Sirius came over for the night. And then I went to his house this morning to play for a while because Mum had a Healer's appointment."

"Don't talk with your mouth full, James, sweet, that's impolite," Mairead chided gently.

"Ah, the joys of being eight," Dumbledore laughed.

"Were you ever eight, sir?" James asked, swallowing his mouthful before asking.

"James!" both William and Mairead scolded.

"I said 'sir'!" James exclaimed indignantly.

Dumbledore fairly roared with laughter. "A very long time ago, James. A very long time ago."

* * *

_Beijing, September 1969:_

"What's going on with your parents today, Sirius?" 10-year-old James asked as they took off from their new quarters at the Consulate, 9-year-old Regulus tagging along as usual. "They're even more snappish than usual."

"Andromeda just told the family she's marrying a Mudblood," Regulus spoke up.

"Don't call him that," Sirius snapped at him. "Andromeda can marry whoever she wants. Besides, I thought he was a nice guy. His name's Ted," he added to James. "Ted Tonks. He's a Hufflepuff. Or I guess he was a Hufflepuff, seeing as they're not in school anymore. He was a pretty nice guy, I liked him."

"Any way, they blasted Andromeda off the tapestry in Grimmauld Place last night, before we left for Beijing," Regulus continued, unperturbed by his brother's angry snap about the slur. "Andromeda didn't even look like she cared." He looked quite appalled at his cousin's apparent lack of trauma.

"Who would care, if that's the way your family's going to treat you?" Sirius demanded.

"You're just mad because Father and Grandfather Black and Great-Grandfather Black and Great-Great-Grandfather Black's portrait gave you the speech about protecting the purity of the Black bloodline again," Regulus shot back. "They only give it to you any way, because you're the oldest boy."

"I agree with Andromeda," Sirius said sullenly. "If keeping the bloodline pure means inbreeding, I think I'll marry outside the purebloods. Maybe I'll marry a Muggle, just to really make them mad."

"You're going to end up blasted off the tapestry too, Sirius, if you keep talking like that," Regulus warned. The two brothers lapsed into angry silence, until James broke it.

"So I think it's stupid that we have to wait until next year to start school," he announced. "Just because we weren't 11 by the first, doesn't mean that we couldn't keep up with the others."

"Yeah," Sirius said. "You are still going to Hogwarts, aren't you?" he asked suddenly, looking at James with a flash of fear in his eyes. "You're not going to Beauxbatons?"

"Of course, I'm going to Hogwarts, I'm English, not French," James said indignantly. "And any way, even if I wanted to, Mum wouldn't let me go back to France. She won't even let Dad take a post at the French Consulate anymore."

"The French Consulate wouldn't take him any way, they're too mad over that whole scandal," Sirius said confidently. "Come on, let's go find a Quidditch pitch. Reg, you can't tag along everywhere! Go back to Mother!"


	5. A New Life Stage

**Chapter 4: A New Life Stage**

_Beijing, June 1970:_

"James!" William called. "James, come on, we have to go, we're going to miss our Portkey!"

"Coming!" came the muffled call of his 11-year-old.

"Now, James, we have five minutes!" Mairead called wearily. "William, can you go? I'm sorry, darling, I just don't have the energy to chase after him today…"

"Of course, darling," William sighed as he took off for James' bedroom. Moments later, he was hauling his son back out.

* * *

_Ayn's Cove, July 1970:_

"Jude," James asked, "can I come to practice with you tomorrow?"

Jude looked up from his dinner. "Yeah, sure, James, if it's all right with Aunt Mairead and Uncle William."

"Please, Dad, can I?" James begged.

"Sure, James," William sighed. Mairead had long since retreated back to bed, face wan and hands shaky.

* * *

"So, James," Orla said seriously, "school is a matter of utmost importance. The next seven years are going to mold you into the man you are going to become…"

"Mam," Mairead said tiredly from her spot in an armchair, blankets wrapped tightly around herself, "he's getting this speech at school."

"Well, he can get it from me, too," Orla replied stubbornly, and she continued her traditional bestowment of responsibilities to her youngest grandson.

* * *

_Godric's Hollow, August 1970:_

"Ah, Hogwarts," Michael sighed fondly in reminiscence. "You'll love it, James, not a doubt in my mind. Albus was one of the best professors I've ever had the pleasure of knowing, and I don't doubt that he is an excellent headmaster. But the important thing is watch out for whom you associate with. Take, for example, the Blacks."

"Sirius Black is my best friend!" James jumped immediately to Sirius' defence.

"Yes, right now, but you just wait until he ends up in Slytherin like the rest of his lot and you end up in a respectable house. He'll change – they all start off decent when they're children. I don't know _what_ that family does to their kids…"

"Sirius won't go in Slytherin," James said confidently. "Sirius is better than that."

* * *

_September 1, 1970:_

"Sirius!" James called excitedly over the din as he spotted his best friend. "Sirius, here!" He turned to his parents. "I'm going to go get him, okay?"

"You'd best get on the train after, James, it's ten to eleven," Mairead said, accepting his hug. James repeated the hug to William and dashed off after Sirius in the distance.

"Sirius!" James called again, narrowly avoiding a crash into a red-haired girl about his own age. "Sirius, come on, we have to get on the train," he started to say, when he saw Sirius' eyes. They weren't sparkling like they always had been, but were dulled and emotionless. "Sirius, you all right? You don't look so well."

"I'm fine," Sirius replied quietly. "Come on, let's get on the train."

"Remember what we told you, Sirius," Orion spoke up sternly; James saw the briefest flash of fear in Sirius' eyes before they dulled again and Sirius nodded silently.

* * *

"So what'd you get told?" James asked as the two friends found an empty compartment.

"The usual," Sirius replied, still trapped in his quiet thoughts. "Be careful whom you associate with."

"Funny, Grandfather said the exact same thing," James laughed, trying to pull his old friend out of his funk. "He then proceeded to warn me about the dangers of associating with Blacks."

"We are a pretty dangerous breed," Sirius said with a slight smile; James was mildly encouraged by the smile.

"What happened to you?" James asked when Sirius' robe neck shifted and he caught sight of a deep bruise on the side of his friend's neck. Reaching out to see it better, he was surprised when Sirius recoiled.

"Nothing," Sirius said testily, pulling his robe neck back up a little to cover the bruise. James was about to prod further, but the door pulled back open and the red-haired girl James had nearly run over earlier came in with another dark-haired boy. Both looked to be from the poorer side of the tracks, with older, worn clothes and the boy with tangled greasy hair.

"Sorry, there aren't any more spaces available," the girl said. "Do you mind if we sit in here?"

"Nah, go ahead," James said. "We haven't got an exclusive on the compartment."

"Snape, isn't it?" Sirius said to the boy with disdain in his voice. "My father and my uncle warned me about you. Your mother abandoned all pretense of pride and married a Muggle, right?"

James kicked Sirius hard on the shin. What was he doing? He'd never heard Sirius talk like this.

"You must be a Black," the boy replied with an equal tone of disdain. "Aren't all your family married to cousins? Which would make you an inbred. Maybe that's why they all –"

Sirius' wand had shot out before anybody could realize what had happened. It took some long-forgotten quick reflexes from James to stop Sirius from cursing Snape, who had also pulled out his wand. "Sirius, really, you want to get suspended before you've even been sorted?" James demanded. "C'mon, we'll find somewhere else. There are better kinds to sit with." He gave Snape a nasty glare as he hauled Sirius, still breathing hard, out.

* * *

"Sirius, what's going on with you?" James asked, yanking Sirius into a compartment that a group of older students had just vacated. "Have you listened to yourself today? You sound like you actually buy all that pureblood junk!"

Sirius stopped midway to forming an angry response and his face blanched. "Merlin…" he moaned as he dropped onto one of the empty benches. "James, I can't do this." He pulled his legs up tight to his chest and he looked at James with distress. "I can't bleeding do it, James."

James watched his best friend while his grandfather's voice echoed somewhere in his memory: _"I don't know _what_ that family does to their kids…" _Something had happened to Sirius, something big. "Sirius…" James begged. "You're better than that, I know you are."

They looked at each other in silence until there was a brief shuffle from behind them. Sirius immediately whirled around, fear in his eyes until he spotted what had made the noise: a younger boy, probably their age, with light brown hair and blue eyes, was sitting in the far corner by a window, very carefully ignoring their conversation. He had a few mild scratches on his cheeks. "What are you doing here?" James demanded.

"My brother dumped me here," the boy replied, looking away from the window. "This is the prefects' compartment, you know."

"Oh," James said, putting a calming hand on Sirius' shoulder and withdrawing it when Sirius winced at the touch.

* * *

James watched as Sirius went up onto the platform to be sorted. Sirius was plainly terrified throughout the whole process, until the Hat declared, "Gryffindor!" and then he relaxed slightly, hopping off the stool and joining the Gryffindors.

James sent his friend a grin. 'I knew it', he mouthed to him excitedly; Sirius grinned back at him. Lily Evans, the redhaired girl from earlier, and Remus Lupin, the boy they had encountered in their little foray into the prefects' compartment, were soon sorted into Gryffindor as well, and it wasn't long before James was called up.

Confident that he would end up in Gryffindor like Sirius (they were far too much alike not to be), James waited while Professor McGonagall placed the hat on his head, with a grin in Sirius' direction again.

'Hmm…' the Hat mused in his head. 'You are an interesting mind, Jacques-Antoine des Perreaults-de-Champagne.'

'You have it wrong,' James thought. 'My name's James Potter.'

'On the surface…' the Hat conceded. 'But you know that deep down, you're still Jacques.'

'Just sort me, will you?' James demanded.

'Oh, very well,' the Hat grumbled. "Gryffindor!"

James handed the hat back to McGonagall and hopped in next to Sirius, narrowly avoiding hitting the redhaired girl again. "Oh, sorry about that," he said quickly, then turned to Sirius. "So I told you so, did I not?"

"Yeah, you did," Sirius said with a laugh, though it stopped when he spotted his cousin Narcissa glaring at him from across the room. "Damn it, I'm going to get such a Howler tomorrow…"

"Oh, yeah, you're supposed to be Slytherin, aren't you?" James laughed. "Or anything except Gryffindor?"

Sirius sighed.

"Come on, forget about it for right now, concentrate on this excellent spread," James persisted. Sirius seemed to laugh his worry off and started to pile his plate.

* * *

"Merlin, Sirius!" James exclaimed as he saw the extent of the bruising on Sirius' neck and shoulder. Sirius quickly pulled his pyjamas on, hiding the bruise.

"It's nothing, James," he muttered. "Nothing compared to what you looked like…"

"Might I remind you that they're in prison for that?" James said quietly, pulling on his own pyjamas. When he caught sight of their other two dorm-mates watching them in curiosity, he snapped, "Weren't you ever taught not to eavesdrop?" Immediately, Peter jumped and occupied himself with something else, but Remus watched him a moment longer before he returned to rubbing his scratched cheek absently, sitting cross-legged on his bed by the window. "What happened to you, anyway?"

"Accident," Remus replied softly. "Got scratched by a branch when I fell in the woods a couple of days ago."

"The woods?" Sirius asked sceptically, though a little harsher than he normally might've done.

"I live outside of Rowena's Pass," Remus said. "Our house is surrounded by the woods."

James looked at Sirius with momentary confusion. "Rowena's Pass, where's that?"

"Bloody hell if I know," Sirius grumbled, "I spend no more time in England than you do."

"It's about forty miles out from Devon," Remus said quietly. "There's not too many of us out there. Where are you from, then?"

"Everywhere," Sirius and James both answered in unison.

"Russia, Spain, France," Sirius started to rattle off.

"Germany, America, Brazil, Italy, Egypt, China," James continued. "We move about once a year."

"Weren't they off again in October?" Sirius asked him.

"I think so, Dad said we'd be in Turkey for this year's holidays."

"Really? Father said Romania," Sirius commented.

"Well, aren't Turkey and Romania close together?" James asked. "Maybe they're doing double-duty again, like they did with America and Canada."

"Sure, let's say that," Sirius shrugged. "We both know I'll spend Christmas at your house anyway, even if they are in different countries."

"What do your families do that you trot all over the globe like that?" Remus asked in astonishment.

"They're delegates," James and Sirius replied. "For the International Bureau of Magical Affairs."

"Our fathers have been partners since I was a year old," Sirius said.

"You're one of the year-ender students?" Remus asked. "Birthday after September 1, you should really be in second year?"

"Both of us," Sirius confirmed. "I'm November, he's December."

"Oh, you're really a year-ender," Remus said in awe. "I'm March. So why only you getting mentioned, then, when you were talking about your fathers being partners?" he asked Sirius.

Sirius laughed. "James wasn't on the scene yet. I had nobody to play with before France besides my brother, and my brother's a pain."

"I'm adopted," James explained. "My parents adopted me when I was four."

"Five," Sirius corrected. "I distinctly remember having a play-date on your fifth birthday the day after the trials ended. We had dragons and you didn't understand a word I said, your mother had to play translator."

"I remember that, actually," James laughed. "You just kept talking, and the only thing I understood was 'Jacques', 'French', 'English' and 'You don't understand me'. But it was four, just not legally. My mother considered me hers the second they took me from Champagne." Upon Remus' suspicious look, he added, "It's a long, gruesome story. It sounds like it, but there really was no kidnapping involved. My parents fostered me for a year after I got taken from my biological parents. They had to fight the whole of France tooth and nail to keep me." He grinned. "I have that effect on people."

"He is the twinkle in his parents' eyes," Sirius laughed.

"I am the precious," James agreed with a laugh.

"Mildly spoiled?" Remus asked with a slight smile.

"Mildly spoiled is my brother," Sirius said. "James is spoiled into a class of his own."

* * *

_The room was dark and cold. Shivering with cold and trembling with pain, he curled up on his mat and tried to shield himself from the lashes that were landing on his torn skin, screaming every time._

_"Arretez! Arretez!"_

* * *

"James!"

James flew into consciousness, sitting up so fast that he nearly passed out. Instinctively, he went to strike at the person who held his arm. He managed to stop himself in time – it was Sirius.

"Sorry," James muttered as he relaxed, still trying to regulate his breathing.

"You were having a pretty bad one there, James," Sirius said quietly, releasing James' arm.

Somehow, through the haze of his poor vision, James could see Remus and Peter watching them from across the room. "Sorry about waking you guys up," he repeated softly. "I'm fine. Go back to sleep."

"You sure you're fine?" Sirius asked again worriedly. "You haven't had them this bad in years."

"I'm fine, Sirius," James said again, pulling his knees to his chest. "Really."

But he didn't sleep at all after that. He was too scared to sleep while it was still so dark and silent. Sirius was right, he hadn't had nightmare-flashbacks in years – not since that first year with his parents, the foster year.

Why were they coming back now? Had the hat's comment rattled him so much that it would affect his sleep?

"Aw, what does that stupid old hat know, any way?" James finally muttered to himself as the sun was rising, pulling his covers over himself. "My name is James Potter. Not Jacques-Antoine des Perreaults-de-Champagne. James."

"You tell 'im, Jay," Sirius mumbled sleepily from his bed.

* * *

"Black and Potter!" Minerva roared as she spotted two dark-haired blurs zoom by on brooms. Exasperated, she looked back towards where the first-year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws were having flying lessons. Evidently Marida had given up on them, since she was still teaching the other students, trying to correct the little Pettigrew boy's horrible form.

Minerva paused when she saw the two boys pull to a stop and whirl around to look at the class again.

"Aw, come on, Remus, we know you can fly!" Black called plaintively. The young Lupin boy looked torn between longing to join his dorm-mates (Minerva knew perfectly well that both Lupin boys knew how to fly almost before they learnt to walk, with an ex-professional Quidditch player and current trainer for a father) and the desire to behave himself and not lose his 'privilege' of being at Hogwarts.

"Yeah, come on," Potter added, a lazy sort of casualness in his stance as he leaned forward on the broom.

Minerva saw Lupin hesitate again and his mind start running, trying to figure out whether having friends was worth potentially getting into trouble. For a moment, she considered letting the boys off the hook (just this once) if Lupin would go. 11 years old was too young to not have a few moments of goofing off in school.

"Oh, go then, Lupin, I know you can fly perfectly well," Marida sighed, waving him off. "None of you get into trouble!" she howled threateningly at the three boys.

The boy's face lit up and immediately he'd taken off to join Black and Potter. He wouldn't get in trouble for it.

"Sorry, Professor McGonagall, what was that?" Potter asked with a grin as he turned back to her.

Minerva shook her head as she saw Lupin's bright smile begin to falter. "Never mind, boys. Stay within the Quidditch pitch." She turned back around. Letting them off once wouldn't ruin them. From behind her, she heard Black let out a yell of excitement and the sounds of brooms zooming off. Pretty soon the sounds of three laughing Gryffindors met her ears.

* * *

"Potter," McGonagall said quietly as the first-year Gryffindors exited Potions class. "Potter, come with me a moment."

James exchanged a questioning glance with Sirius and Remus before he cautiously advanced. "If it's about that joke we played on Daniel, professor, we honestly didn't mean to…"

McGonagall gave him a stern look. "I will deal with the three of you shortly on that matter. For right now, Potter, the headmaster would like to see you."

* * *

"What's going on?" James asked warily as he entered the headmaster's office to see his parents and Mr Donnelly, the lawyer who had handled his adoption and citizenship acquisition, waiting inside.

"James…" Mairead began hesitantly. "Something's come up."

Mr Donnelly took over then. "James, when your parents first won your custody seven years ago in Paris… we were all given assurance that neither Henri-Richard or Micheline would be released from Champs-Désolés for a number of years, at the very least not until you were well into adulthood."

"I thought they weren't ever coming out!" James cried out. He sent a betrayed look to his parents. "You told me that they weren't ever coming out!"

William spoke up. "You were so young, James, at the time. You were still frightened by the mere thought of them."

"We couldn't tell you then, sweetheart," Mairead said, laying a gentle, slightly trembling hand on his cheek. "You'd have been frightened by every sudden move, every sudden noise. You wouldn't have been able to adjust. We were going to tell you much later, when you were in your late teens. When you would have been able to feel as though you could defend yourself against them, that you were safe."

"But something's changed, James," Mr Donnelly said, bringing the conversation back on track. "Somehow, and I intend to find out how, they've been released. We don't think that they know where you are or what your name is, but I won't lie to you – I am very concerned about this."

"You don't need to worry, James," William cut in. "Nobody can get at you while you're at school, and the bureau will make sure that we have an Auror guarding you during the breaks. Mr Donnelly's going to make sure that they go back where they belong – back in prison."

Mairead was still watching her son's face. "James?"

James whispered, _"Mais… mais tu m'as dit… tu m'as dit qu'ils ne sortiront jamais."_ (But... but you told me... you told me they were never coming out) He was shaking, shaking badly.

"I know, sweetheart, I know," she soothed. "I'm sorry. Calm down. They won't get near you."

* * *

Sirius stared at him in shock. "But they weren't supposed to ever get out," he said, somewhat dumbfounded.

"I know," James said grimly, staring at his bedspread. "Mr Donnelly says that he doesn't think they know who I am now, or where I am…"

"But that's easy enough to find out," Sirius said softly.

"Thanks for that piece of encouragement, mate," James muttered. "Where's Remus?" he asked suddenly.

"He went to see Madame Pomfrey," Peter spoke up. "He's not feeling very well."

"Wasn't looking too well either, today," Sirius commented. "Probably trying to get out of that detention with Filch tomorrow night."

"Yeah, that illness did come rather suspiciously soon after McGonagall said 'detention'," James said with a small smile.

* * *

"You sure you don't want to come out for a bit of Christmas, Remus?" James asked again as the train pulled into the station.

"Nah, but thanks anyway," Remus said quickly. "I'll see you guys after break. Merry Christmas." He dashed off behind his older brother when the latter gave him a brusque 'come on' gesture.

"Ah, come on, Jay, let's go," Sirius laughed, slinging a casual arm around his friend's shoulder. "So I wonder when he's going to figure out that we know."

"Know what?" James asked with a grin. "We don't know anything, remember?"

"We ought to shock him one night," Sirius said. "Something really weird."

"Like showing up in the shack?"

"Weird, not suicidal."

"What are you two discussing?" William asked interestedly as he met the two boys.

"Plans," Sirius and James both replied in unison.

"Plans of a highly sensitive nature," Sirius said.

"Top-level clearance only," James added, taking a brief, uneasy note of the Auror discreetly following them.

"I have top-level clearance," William offered. "Hop in the taxicab, boys, we're on our way to Heathrow," he added to the driver, who nodded.

"You mean we're traveling the Muggle way to Turkey?" Sirius muttered.

"Yeah, speaking of traveling," William laughed, "how do you boys feel about Japan in the summer?"

"Hot," James said seriously.

"Humid," Sirius spoke up.

"Crowded," William noted gravely. "More crowded than normal. One would say almost dangerously crowded."

"Is that where the next assignment is?" Sirius asked. "Japan?"

"Yes, but that's not all there is in Japan," William laughed. "Think, Sirius."

"Oh! Ohohohohohoh!" James exclaimed, eyes lighting up. "Quidditch World Cup!"

"World Cup?!" Sirius exclaimed. "We get to go to the World Cup?"

"Orion and I are assigned to the International Relations Bureau for the Cup this year, so yes, we will be at the Quidditch World Cup all summer."

"All summer…" James said gleefully with an excited grin at his best friend.

"All summer…" Sirius echoed.

"Can we ask Remus and Peter to come with us?" James asked his father. "Well, I don't know about Peter, but Remus loves Quidditch."

"Remus would die of delight," Sirius added, before he and James both seemed to deflate.

"The plans," James said in disappointment.

"Right, those plans," Sirius grumbled. "They always throw a wrench in it."

"I'm assuming you two are speaking of Remus Lupin, your roommate?" William asked.

"How do you know him?" James asked incredulously.

"I took it upon myself to research the families of the other Gryffindors in your year," William said with a slight smile. "Security purposes. Funny thing, the Lupin family came up flagged. 11-year-old boy by name of Remus …"

"In which registry?" Sirius asked curiously, as if he and James didn't already know.

"Information of a highly-sensitive nature, top-level clearance," William said dismissively.

"We know already!" James said indignantly.

"He told you?" William asked in surprise.

"No," James replied. "We figured it out."

"Have you told him that?"

"No, of course not, we don't know anything," Sirius replied. "Hey, Mr. Potter, do you know if there's any way to, um…"

"We want to surprise Remus, sort of," James continued, "to let him know that we don't care about… that…"

"Without letting on to anyone else, like professors and what not, that we know," Sirius said.

"Dangerous creatures, werewolves," the driver spoke up, electric blue eyes seeming to pierce right through the two boys. "Not something a human being wants to be anywhere near on a full moon."

"Yeah, we know," Sirius said impatiently.

"Dangerous to humans, they are," the driver repeated, watching the boys until James bit back the yell of inspiration and smacked Sirius' arm.

"Plans!" he hissed.

"Tell me!"

"Plans of a highly-sensitive nature. No level of clearance is high enough!"

"Moody, what did you let on to them?" William asked warily as his son bounced with barely-restrained excitement.

"Absolutely nothing, sir. Just stating a well-known, public fact."


	6. Summer 1971

_A/N: So the saddest part of all this is that the abuse James suffered with his first family actually happens in real life. His background was inspired in part by my watching the 2005 Quebecois movie __Aurore__, a true story from the 1910s about a young girl, Aurore Gagnon, terribly abused to the point of death at age 10 in early 1920. The coroner's cause of death was blood poisoning and exhaustion, with untreated, unexplained wounds covering her body confirming a non-natural death. Three years prior to Aurore's death under suspicious circumstances, her little brother Joseph also died under suspicious circumstances. The stepmother and the husband both got jailed in real life when two siblings – a full sister and a stepbrother – testified at stepmother's trial about the abuse._

_If anybody wants to know more about the real case of Aurore Gagnon, here's a link – it includes transcripts of the court hearings and testimonies of the witnesses: __www.canadianmysteries.ca/sites/gagnon/accueil/indexen.html__ (English translation, there's also a French site). Be warned that some of the witnesses' testimonies (in particular the one of Marie-Jeanne Gagnon, Aurore's sister) are very graphic._

**

* * *

**

Chapter 5: Summer 1971

"Hey, Remus!" Sirius yelled as they arrived back on the platform to return to school. "Remus, over here!"

"Sirius, do calm down," Orion said coldly. Sirius cast a momentary glance at his father, then yelled for Remus again.

Remus looked up from where he was letting his mother kiss him goodbye. "Hey, guys," he greeted as James and Sirius both showed up at either elbow.

"You be good," his mother said sternly.

"You know, it's the Quidditch World Cup this summer," James said casually.

"Yeah," Remus said with a sigh.

His mother ruffled his hair affectionately. "Don't look so morose, Remus dear. We'll listen to it on the WWN."

"You could," Sirius said mysteriously. "Or you could come see it. We and anybody with us get in free for the whole summer because our dads are working there."

Remus' face lit up for a moment and then lost its light as his mother shook her head slightly and then kissed him goodbye one last time before she started to leave. "Sorry, guys, I can't," he mumbled. "Too far. Mum won't let me."

"I'll talk to your mother, Remus," came William's voice as he passed the three boys. "It'd be a shame to have to pass up free admission to the World Cup. You three would best get on the train. If I get one more owl about you, James Potter..."

James just grinned at his father. "Bye, Dad."

"She's never going to agree," Remus said with a resigned sigh as James and Sirius fairly dragged him onboard and into a compartment.

"Oh, Dad can be quite convincing," James replied.

"Not enough to convince my mother," Remus countered, as the three watched the conversation from the window.

* * *

Just as the train was pulling out, William turned to the train and signaled a thumbs-up to the three boys still watching breathlessly.

"Omigoodness, Remus, you're _going_!" Sirius exclaimed.

"I'm what?"

"You're going!" James repeated, grabbing Remus' arm excitedly. "Your mum said yes!"

"She... no, no, she can't have said yes," Remus said, stunned beyond any hope of recovery. "Yes would mean I'm coming. And-and-and then I'd be gone. For the summer. All summer. No, she can't have said yes... she _wouldn't_ have..."

"Remus, stop being such a worrywart!" Sirius said, slinging an arm around Remus' shoulders. We get to see the quarterfinals and the semi-finals and the finals and then the big match! We're there _all_ summer!"

"From the best seats in the house, too," James added, waving Peter in when he approached. "Hey, Peter, feel like going to the World Cup?"

"Not really," Peter replied. "I'm not really much for Quidditch."

"Didn't think you would," Sirius sighed. "Oh, well, I suppose James and Remus and I will just have to owl you from Japan."

* * *

The term seemed to pass in a blur, and before any of the boys had really realized it, the school year was finished and it was off to Japan.

"But Mum, what about..." Remus asked anxiously as his mother tried to smooth down a wayward lock of hair.

"Don't fuss about it, Remy, sweetheart, Mr Potter knows. He'll make sure you're safe," Anna said gently. "Go have fun, my sweet. It's not every day a boy gets to go see the World Cup, after all. Make sure you owl me once a week and tell me all about your misadventures."

* * *

Remus had to bite back the gasp of astonishment as his Portkey landed in front of an amazing mansion. He knew James and Sirius both came from old money, but _this_ was...

"Remus!" he heard his friends' voices yelling in the distance. "Remus, up here!"

Remus looked up to see James and Sirius tearing around the air on their brooms, tossing a Quaffle back and forth.

"Come on, get your broom!" James yelled, dropping the Quaffle down to him. "If we want to make the house team next year, we'd best start practicing!"

"You boy, not so high!" came the sharp call from an Auror standing by the gate. "Don't you know every dark wizard in the country can shoot at you from there?"

"Not with you here, Moody!" James called back cheekily.

"Get down, Potter! You too, Black!"

"Moody, you're too paranoid!" Sirius called. "Remus, are you going to stand there all day or are you going to get up here and play?"

"Just because I'm paranoid, it doesn't mean they're not after you, Black!" the Auror yelled as Remus fished out his broom and took off into the air. "The three of you come down about fifty feet!"

"Thought you weren't our goddamn babysitter, Moody!" James shot back, laughing as Remus threw the Quaffle to him.

"I'm _not_ your goddamn babysitter, Potter, I'm your goddamn bodyguard! Get down now or I'll get your father to ban you from flying!"

"James, James, sweetheart, I would feel better if you weren't up quite so high," Mairead called from the porch as she came out. "Come down just a little bit, darling."

"Only for you, Mum," James called back indulgently.

* * *

"So you three feel like coming to the stadium with me tomorrow? The teams are all arriving for the quarterfinals in the morning," William said, a knowing smile on his face as all three boys yelled in approval. Well, James and Sirius yelled. Remus just nodded vigorously.

"James, Sirius, don't yell, please," Mairead reprimanded.

"Hey, James," Remus asked that evening as they were getting ready for bed. "Aren't your parents, well, a little _old_ to have a son as young as you? You don't much look like them, either..."

James looked up from where he was trying to pull his pajama shirt over his head. "You don't remember me telling you I was adopted?"

"Oh, yeah, I do now, sorry," Remus said. "Do you remember your old family much?"

There was deadly silence. "Not much," James finally said tightly. "Enough to know I'm better off in England." He climbed up into the top bunk, pulling the blankets over himself.

"Why, what was so bad about the old family?"

"Remus, stop asking questions," Sirius said quietly from below James, across from Remus. "We don't talk about that."

"Why not?" Remus asked.

"Why don't you tell us what it's like to turn into a bloodthirsty monster every month, and then I'll tell you about my old family," James said nastily, turning away.

Remus' heart stopped. "You know?" he asked shakily.

"We've known since Easter, Remus," Sirius said softly. "James, he doesn't know about them. Don't take it out on Remus."

"And I don't know what the hell your father did to _you_ before we started school, but you don't see _me_ digging for answers, do you?"

"Who says he did _anything_?!" Sirius hurled angrily at him. "Goddamn it, James, that's MY business!"

"The three of you will not be going anywhere tomorrow if you don't watch your mouths and go to sleep!" William roared, opening the door.

* * *

William sighed as he closed the bedroom door and leaned his forehead against the wood. They were too young to have so much baggage. A child werewolf, one boy suffering with the traumas of his past, one boy suffering with the secrets of his present... Much as he wanted to treat them like normal children, he knew he couldn't. They _weren't_ normal children.

_

* * *

_

He hurt. He hurt so much that he could hardly move. She had left again with a threat to do more later, after their visitors were gone, if he cried. He couldn't cry. He shouldn't cry – after all, bad boys needed to be punished. It was right that Maman should hit him…

_No, no, it wasn't right. It was wrong and she was gone, so very far away now. He had a mother who really did love him…_

_No, no, she wasn't far away. She was released, she was free to find him. She was standing right outside his door!_

* * *

"James!" he heard his father shouting and desperately shaking his shoulder. "James, damn it, wake up!"

He realized he was screaming.

He slowly calmed enough to stop screaming. "I'm sorry," he whispered, curling up as he hugged his blankets in closer to him. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, James," William said gently, brushing back a lock of his son's hair. "They won't get you. I promise," he added softly. "That's why Moody's here."

James nodded with a slight tremble. William smiled in grim understanding and then kissed his forehead lightly. "Now, try to get a little bit more sleep, all right? It's only a few more hours until we have to leave for the Quidditch stadium." James nodded again, and William left the room, Moody checking in more as a reassurance than a precaution.

"You okay?" Sirius whispered worriedly as he and Remus both abandoned their beds to climb up onto James'.

"I'm sorry, James, for asking," Remus said softly. "I didn't realize…"

"It's all right, Remus. Sometimes they just come," James muttered, sitting up as he wrapped his arms a little more tightly around himself. "Was it really bad, Seer?"

"Yeah," Sirius admitted quietly. "You were thrashing around and screaming in French like you were being killed. Your dad's been trying to wake you for half an hour."

"Merlin, I'll be glad when Mr. Donnelly catches them and sends them back to Champs-Désolés," James mumbled. He looked up briefly to catch the questions in Remus' eyes, but the reluctance to ask. "My biological parents were sentenced to prison for a really long time for abuse," he explained quietly. "Probably a good thirty-five, forty years in the French wizarding prison – Mum said that I'd have been well in adulthood by the time they were released. Back in October, the prison released them early for some reason. My parents and the lawyer who's been working my case since the beginning are worried that they're going to come after me. That's why Moody's here."

"He changed his name when he left France, but it's not a dramatic change," Sirius added softly. "They basically Anglicized it and changed the surname to Potter."

"They know that Mum and Dad adopted me. He used to work with Dad when they were stationed in Paris, and they know where we live," James said quietly.

The three boys looked at each other, gathered into their little circle, before Remus spoke up.

"I was two. My dad had blasted Fenrir Greyback in an interview one day, and I was playing outside when he came to attack the house," he said, rubbing his shoulder reflexively. "I still kind of remember it." He pulled down the neck of his pyjama shirt to reveal the old, ugly scar he had tried so hard all year to hide. "I remember that I was lying outside in the woods all night bleeding and screaming, but they couldn't hear me."

"She used to hit me harder if I screamed, or if I cried," James said softly.

Sirius was silent for a long time before he muttered, "I'm not supposed to tell anybody. They call it the initiation."

* * *

When Mairead entered the room to wake the boys early the next morning, she smiled. All three were fast asleep on James' bunk, evidence of a difficult night as she noticed the dried tears on their faces. She almost hated to wake them, but she wanted to take full advantage of feeling almost normal for right now and go out to the stadium with them.

"Jamie," she whispered, pushing back a lock of hair from his face. "Jamie, sweet, wake up. It's time to go –"

"World Cup!" James exclaimed, flying upright from his bed. Startled, both Sirius and Remus jolted awake, sitting up.

Mairead laughed. "Get dressed, you three. We'll have some breakfast before we leave for the stadium. William's already gone ahead."

Yawning, Sirius asked, "You're going too, Mrs Potter?"

"Well, of course. It's not every day one gets to meet the national teams," Mairead replied with a smile as she left for the kitchen.

"Your mum never goes out anywhere anymore," Sirius said in surprise to James, whose lips had curved in a happy smile. "She's always too weak."

"She's feeling all right today," James said. "Just proves what Healers know. The guy who was there at Easter didn't think she'd make it to summer."

* * *

"Dad," James said quietly on the first full moon's evening, after Remus had been safely isolated. "Does it hurt? Transforming?"

William watched his son and his best friend, both working on schoolwork in the den with constant, worried glances out the window, flinching when they heard the desperate screaming howls. "I think it does, James. I wouldn't know."

"Say in theory, Mr Potter, that an Animagus were to be attacked by a transformed werewolf," Sirius said softly. "Would the Animagus have been turned into a werewolf?"

"Werewolves are only dangerous to humans in human form, Sirius," William said, sitting down in his armchair as he watched them carefully. "But werewolf attacks are vicious. Human or animal, they'd most likely die. What are you two thinking of?"

"Nothing," Sirius said immediately.

"Just wondering," James added.

William looked at them a moment longer before he saw more of what they were working on. "You're not doing schoolwork," he said, tugging James' textbook out from beneath the parchment. _The Theory of Animagy_. Putting two and two together, William summoned all the books and papers. "Don't do it, boys. You'd ani-splinch yourselves or worse. Children cannot perform Animagy. It's a well-known and indisputable fact."

"We're just thinking, Mr Potter, if…"

"And it's an admirable thought, Sirius, but you'd only be endangering yourselves and Remus. He has safety rules and isolation for a reason. Regardless of what form you would be in, he'd kill you. The werewolf is separate from the human. You might be Remus' friends, but to the werewolf, you're dinner." He didn't break gaze with the two boys. "Do not try this again, boys. Do you hear me?"

James and Sirius looked at him a while longer and then nodded wordlessly.


	7. A Close Call

**Chapter 6: A Close Call**

"I am being deadly serious, James," William warned as he gave his son a hug goodbye. "If I so much as see a Hogwarts owl flying past my window and into Orion's, there will be consequences."

"Why am I being punished for Sirius' misdemeanour?" James asked indignantly.

"Because if one goes into Orion's window, I know the one coming to me isn't far behind. Behave yourself."

"Sure, Dad," James laughed, waving at Sirius as he arrived with his family. Regulus looked red-eyed and jumpy, same as Sirius had his first day. Sirius didn't look too good either. "I'll keep that in mind."

"I'll have one before the end of the day, won't I?"

"I dunno. Depends on if Snape keeps his abnormally large nose out of our business or not." Remus rolled his eyes from beside James

"For goodness' sake, James, be the bigger man," William groaned. "Leave him alone. Have a good term, we'll see you at Christmas."

"Where are we this year?" James asked.

"India," William laughed. "Go on, get on the train, then. I imagine you need an entire compartment to yourself."

* * *

"And then when he nearly fell off – " James continued eagerly, making Sirius and Remus laugh in appreciation. They paused momentarily when the Gryffindor Quidditch captain, fifth-year David Wood, poked his head into the compartment.

"You Black, Lupin and Potter?" he asked briskly. They nodded and he said cheerily, "Good. Practices start second week of September." When they all looked at him questioningly, he added, "Unless, of course, you lot don't want to play. I was informed if I was looking for three Chasers, I should be looking here."

"No, no, we want to play," Sirius quickly jumped in. Wood nodded in approval and left.

"Did that just happen?" Remus asked uncertainly.

James grinned. "We _did_ just make the house team without even trying out," he said with a grin. "Can you believe it?"

* * *

It was full moon that night. And as Remus bade his friends a miserable farewell and headed for the hospital, 'complaining of a sore stomach', James and Sirius sat up in the dormitory, watching out the window.

"I wish we could do something besides sit up," Sirius said dismally. "It doesn't help Remus any."

James looked up from his book. "We can do something." He tossed a book at Sirius. "Start reading. We might as well make something out of the night, since we're not sleeping, any way."

Sirius looked at the cover. _Human to Hamster: the beginner's guide to Animagy_. "Hey, your dad told us not to – "

"What my dad doesn't know won't hurt him," James replied quietly.

* * *

"All right, what were you three up plotting last night?" Lily Evans demanded sharply as she noticed the three friends stifling huge yawns at breakfast the next morning. "If you lose Gryffindor any more points this year..."

"Aw, shut up, Evans, what do you kn-kn-know?" Sirius yawned, waving her off.

She glared at them once more before sitting down with her friends at the opposite end of the table.

"Didn't you get any sleep last night?" Remus asked softly, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. He had a new scratch along his arm that Madam Pomfrey had bandaged up for him.

"Why should we? You didn't," James said quietly.

"Yeah, but..."

"Remus, quit being argumentative," Sirius said commandingly. "Eat your toast."

"Who are you, my mother?" Remus asked, taking a bite out of his toast.

* * *

"Black and Potter, if I hear so much as a peep out of either of you, you will be well-acquainted with the inside of the Headmaster's office for the next month," McGonagall said threateningly.

"Yes, ma'am," James and Sirius both chorused innocently, taking out their Transfiguration books.

"And if I hear so much as a peep out of Lupin or Pettigrew,you will be well-acquainted with the inside of the Headmaster's office for the next _two_ months."

"Why?" both boys demanded indignantly.

"Because you are still somehow behind it."

Remus hid the snicker behind his hand, then yelped as James and Sirius both walloped him with their textbooks. "Ow! Professor!"

"Don't provoke them, Lupin," McGonagall said sternly. "You ought to know that by now."

* * *

"Look at this!" they heard Mary Macdonald whisper to Lily over breakfast one windy autumn Saturday. "They reckon they've spotted a couple of escaped prisoners near Hogsmeade last night. French prisoners, they managed to get out of the country, according to this..."

"'Known to be dangerous and violent, the public is warned to take extreme cautions and any sighting of these two prisoners should be reported to the International Bureau of Magical Affairs or the Aurors' Office immediately,'" Lily read, casting a dark glare in James' direction. "I hope they catch Potter. It would serve him right, all the trouble he causes."

* * *

"Can I see you a moment, James?" Dumbledore said quietly, standing in the doorway of the second-year boys' dormitory.

"If it's about Henri-Richard and Micheline, you can talk right here, professor," James said softly, eyes – suspiciously red – still focused on the playbook that David Wood had distributed to the team earlier in the day. "They know about them. I suppose my parents called and said that they really don't think it's a good idea to be playing Quidditch at the moment, being so exposed and all?"

"Your father did send an owl earlier today, James, to that effect," Dumbledore admitted. "He wants Auror Moody posted inside the castle now."

"But Moody isn't subtle!" James burst out, throwing aside the playbook. Sirius, Remus and Peter all wisely stayed quiet, watching their headmaster's face.

"Alastor isn't meant to be subtle, James," Dumbledore said calmly.

"They said there was no need for Moody inside Hogwarts!" James continued angrily. "They said I was _safe_ here!"

Dumbledore sighed, compassion and sympathy in his eyes as he watched a very scared 12-year-old boy try to hide that fact. "That was before they were spotted near Hogsmeade. James, they're just trying to keep you safe."

"I don't want Moody in here," James said sullenly.

"Not unless we have reason to believe that they have penetrated or will soon penetrate Hogwarts' grounds," Dumbledore said. "As you pointed out, James, Alastor is not particularly subtle, and I don't want to give them any more hint that the person they seek is here. But I must ask you – _all_ of you," he added blandly, giving Sirius and Remus particularly warning glances, "not go wandering about at all hours of the night as I know is your habit." The four boys shook their heads mutely in response.

"Professor?" Sirius spoke up suddenly, when Dumbledore had turned to leave. "About Quidditch?"

"The others are all much older, Dumbledore," Remus said, as the headmaster turned back to them. "I mean, they're all mostly sixth- and seventh-years, except for us and Wood. Can't... can't we keep going?"

Dumbledore looked at them for a moment. "Yes, yes, I think that might be for the best. Best not to let on to any of the students that something is amiss. And, if I might say so, Professor McGonagall would like to see that Quidditch Cup back in Gryffindor possession," he added with a twinkle in his eye.

The boys laughed, the haunted look in James' face disappearing.

* * *

"You ready?" Gideon Prewett asked the three young Chasers, his Beater's club resting against his shoulder.

"Yeah," James replied stoutly.

"Feeling confident?" Fabian Prewett added from the other side.

"Yeah," Sirius said defensively.

"Good," David said seriously. "Because Slytherin's Chasers are built like mountain trolls."

"Um," Remus started to say nervously, when James and Sirius both interrupted.

"The bigger they are – "

"The harder they fall, Remus."

"And everyone knows that mountain trolls can't fly."

* * *

"Oh, oh, smash a Bludger at him, Gid!" Sirius yelled as he swooped down to catch the Quaffle falling from James' grip and to hoist his friend back up on his broom. "Jay, get back in there!"

"Sirius, Sirius, Rosier!" Remus yelled from above.

"Haha, gonna have to be faster than that to get me, Rosier!" Sirius cackled, dropping rapidly as the Slytherin Chaser crashed into the Bludger his teammate had just hit towards Sirius. "Ooh, that looked like it hurt," he snickered, chucking the Quaffle through the hoop. "Beat by a 12-year-old, I'll bet Suspecta will something to say about _that_." He let out a whoop of triumph as Remus scored another goal, quickly followed by James. "Yeah!"

"The Snitch! The Snitch!" Fabian yelled over the screams of the spectators just as Sirius had marked the fourth goal in two minutes. "Matt's got the Snitch! We've won! We _smashed_ them!"

* * *

The three young Chasers soon became heroes of Gryffindor. Unlike Remus, who seemed a little embarrassed by all the fuss, James and Sirius fairly preened, creating a bit of annoyance from the ever-fun-ruining Lily Evans.

* * *

There was crashing outside, great flashes of light.

"'Snot raining, is it?" Sirius yawned, stretching languorously as he sat up in bed. "James, you're by the window. What's going on?"

James moaned, shoved his glasses on his face and looked outside. "Looks like a duel or summin," he yawned back.

"Students?" Remus asked, sitting up and rubbing his eyes again, flinching as he pulled at a healing cut near his left eye.

"Don't think so," James said, trying to look a little closer. All four boys jumped about a mile in the air when the door slammed open.

McGonagall stood in the doorway, tartan dressing robe barely illuminated by her wand. "Mr Potter, away from the window," she said quietly.

There was dead silence in the dormitory before Remus spoke. "It's not students down there, is it?"

"No, Mr Lupin, it is not students," McGonagall replied. Moody appeared at that point, face dark and set as he growled,

"You boy, come with me. Before the rest of the house starts flooding the common room and getting in the way."

The four friends exchanged nervous glances before James got to his feet and stumbled slightly: Moody had grabbed his shoulder roughly and was fairly dragging him out of the tower.

* * *

"Stay there. Don't go anywhere, don't say a word," Moody warned before the secret passage closed.

Taking a deep breath to try and calm himself, James hugged his knees to his chest in the pitch-black passage. Finally, he murmured shakily, "_Lumos_." His wand lit up and gave him reassuring light.

* * *

The sun was just beginning to peek out over the horizon when McGonagall returned to the second-year boys' dormitory.

"What's happened?" Sirius asked immediately, sitting fully-clothed on his bed. Remus and Peter were both doing the same, watching McGonagall warily.

"Mr Black, bring Potter's robes with you, I expect he'll want to change," McGonagall said abruptly.

"But what's happened with them?" Remus persisted. "Did they catch them, or...?"

"Mr Lupin, if you want to get to breakfast on time, I suggest you get to your feet and help Mr Black." McGonagall sent him a warning look. "Mr Pettigrew, you would need your tie done up and your shoes tied," she ordered sharply.

* * *

James was waiting outside the headmaster's office, hair damp from his bath to wash the dirt and dust and grime off his skin from a night spent in the cold passageway.

"James, you all right?" Sirius asked worriedly, as Remus passed him his bag of clothes. James nodded wordlessly.

"Mr Potter, I suggest you get changed quickly and then head down to the Great Hall for breakfast," McGonagall said. "I expect to see you in class directly after breakfast and prepared for the test."

James nodded again, heading back into the office. He emerged moments later, dressed for school.

"Comb your hair," McGonagall said dryly as she began to leave.

"I did," James said softly.

"They didn't capture them, did they?" Peter asked quietly. James shook his head.

* * *

That night, the four friends were huddled around one of the tables in the common room, working on the Potions essay that Slughorn had set.

"But I don't understand," Peter was saying plaintively to Sirius, as James was trying to get one of the finer points of Swelling Solution across to Remus, who didn't seem to get the importance of the puffer-fish eyes.

"I don't know, Remus, I reckon they've got some sort of swelling properties, seeing as puffer-fish swell and all," James sighed. "I don't think Slughorn cares about that bit, any way."

"But I heard Lily telling Mary to put that in," Remus said uncertainly.

"Yeah, well, that's Evans the overachieving Slug Club member, innit?" James said dismissively. He frowned as he looked at Remus. "You're not looking so well, Remus. You should probably go see Madame Pomfrey."

"Yeah, you're looking a little peaky there, mate," Sirius commented.

"Nah, I'm fine," Remus said softly, nibbling at the end of his well-worn quill as he reread his paragraph.

"You sure?" James dipped his own quill in the ink and scribbled on the edge of Remus' textbook page, _Isn't it tonight?_

Remus shook his head slightly. _Tomorrow,_ he scribbled in return._ I thought you two were supposed to be the brightest ones in the year, but obviously not._ He yelped when Sirius tackled him affectionately. "Sirius!" he exclaimed, the books and papers of all four boys flying into a helterskelter pile on the floor as the table nearly fell on its side from the force of being struck by his body.

"Take it back!" Sirius laughed.

"No, I meant it!" Remus returned with a grin, dodging James when he joined in. Yelping again as he dove under the table to avoid them again, the sounds of the second-year boys causing a ruckus couldn't help but attract attention.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, can't you four grow up?" Lily demanded in exasperation as she started to gather up their books and papers from the floor. "You've done nothing but disrupt the entire school's life since you arrived!"

"Aw, shut up, Evans," Sirius and James both replied scathingly, though they reluctantly released Remus from his pinned position and Peter immediately scrambled to his feet.

"Get off our stuff, Evans," James said sharply when he realized that she was picking up his school things.

"We can get our own junk, thanks," Sirius added with equal sharpness.

Lily let out a 'hmph' of disgust and dropped their things to the ground again, stalking off with mutterings under her breath. "Ungrateful... rotten..."

"Damn girl," James muttered under his breath as he and Sirius quickly retrieved their things, sliding a couple of textbooks out of sight.

"Can't stand her and her know-it-all attitude. Just because Slughorn's besotted with her..." Sirius agreed in a low voice.

"What are you hiding?" Remus asked immediately, frowning at his two best friends.

"We're not hiding anything," Sirius said uneasily, though he pulled his books just a little closer to his chest as he said this.

"Who says we're hiding anything?" James replied quickly. "C'mon, let's head back to the dormitory, I don't want to look at her any more..."

* * *

Tired and sick though he felt, Remus' worry was overriding any desire to sleep. James and Sirius were up to something, and they didn't want to tell him. Why? Why were they being so secretive about it? Did they not trust him? The sting of pain and betrayal that struck him at that terrible thought was one that would always come back to haunt him in later years.

They were both from wizarding families and had been raised with wizarding morals. Of course they didn't trust him. He was a werewolf, and maybe Romulus had been right, what he said at the beginning of summer holidays. _"Don't get attached, Remus. They're going to be gone the second you leave Hogwarts and you can't hide the truth any more."_

But they knew. They knew and yet they still...

Blinking rapidly to rid his eyes of the tears threatening to spill, Remus climbed quietly out of his bed, pulling on his dressing robe and padded over to Sirius' books, lying on the floor unceremoniously. Searching through them as quietly as he dared, Remus found the small book that had been hidden inside Sirius' robes and tucked it into one pocket. Then he searched through James' books until he'd located the one James had hidden. Then, slipping out of the dormitory, he went down to the common room to figure out what they were up to.

* * *

The books' covers were hidden underneath parchment, and the title pages had been ripped out – clearly these weren't school books.

The pages were suspiciously blank, but there were piles of parchment in each of the books, filled to the brim with Sirius and James' untidy scrawl.

_Is there a time limit?? H – no, but N – yes (2 hours) – NOT ENOUGH! Clarify this with more research._

_Is there control over form? N – yes, choice by wizard in question, but H – no, form based on unknown criteria. Need more research into this – big risk if H is right, we need some knowledge (size, power, etc)._

_BIG QUESTION! Do we keep our own minds? N nor H has anything to say on this topic. Ask PM – she'd know – but how to avoid suspicion? THIS IS CRUCIAL!_

_PW__ – danger? MP says no, but just to be sure..._

_MM - 25+ but since when do they know anything?_

_Ask R about where. Probably – no, definitely – won't tell us but it's worth a shot. Find out how to get in, but not before above questions are answered._

"What the hell are you planning?" Remus muttered, trying to decipher what the initials meant. _"Specialis revelio,"_ he whispered to the first book, tapping it. His eyes widened as he saw the words begin to appear on the pages and the title page reconstruct itself. The Theory of Animagy by Edward Henningbren. _Property of W.A. Potter._

A sinking feeling in his stomach, Remus repeated the spell to the second book. Human to Hamster: the beginner's guide to Animagy by Aldwin Northing. _Property of W.A. Potter_.

Suddenly some of the notes made a lot more sense. A time limit and control on the animal form... presence of their human mind in animal form... the responses from both books. MM... Ministry for Magic, age restriction of 25 and older...

They were studying Animagy, but why? Why bother when you had to be 25 before you could mess around with the magic? The other initials – who was PM, PW, MP, R? Where were they trying to get into, and why was it dangerous?

Another piece of parchment fell out of the Northing book and Remus' heart stopped.

_Bellatrix and Narcissa say the Shrieking Shack used to be quiet as death before last year. This must be the place. HOW DOES HE GET IN?_

Crumpling up the parchment tightly in his fist, Remus stormed back upstairs and threw open the door without concern.

"Whuzzit?" Sirius asked, sitting up.

"What the hell do you two think you're doing?" Remus demanded. He stopped in front of James' bed and dropped the books and parchment at the foot. "Isn't it bad enough that you know without this?"

James frowned as he shoved his glasses on his face. "What are you..." He stopped as he saw the pile of stuff at the foot of his bed. "How'd you find these?"

"I nicked them, what else did you figure?" Remus snapped. "Guys, I have secrets for a reason! Merlin, if any of the students ever found out even half this stuff, I'd be expelled before sunup!"

"It _is_ the Shack, isn't it?" Sirius asked, climbing out of bed. "I was right. But how do you get in there? Gideon and Fabian tried, they said it's impenetrable..."

A light went on in James' eyes. "The Whomping Willow. It's over the passage. There's a secret passage from Hogwarts to the Shack. That's why Dumbledore forbade the students to go near it last year when Gudgeon almost lost his eye, he'd gotten too close to the trunk, he'd have seen the passage. How do you not get thrashed?"

"The knot!" Sirius exclaimed. "Touching the knot must freeze the tree somehow, that's why McGonagall went nuts when she found out that was what the game was!"

Remus was still sheet-white, running a helpless hand through his hair as he watched Dumbledore's carefully-laid plans go to ruin. "Guys..." he moaned.

"Aw, stop worrying, Remus," James said. "Let us sweat the big stuff. You just worry about that Potions essay of yours."


	8. Summer 1972

**Chapter 7: Summer 1972**

"Ah, another year through," Sirius sighed nostalgically, stretching out lazily in the train compartment on the way back to London. "And what a year it's been."

"So where's your families this summer?" Remus asked, shutting his book.

"Believe it or not, we're actually in England this summer," Sirius commented. "I don't think I've been in England other than at Hogwarts in two years. What about you, you doing anything this summer? Leave the bloody book alone, Remus, talk to me!"

Remus immediately seemed to light up and he dropped his book to the seat next to him. "Yeah, Dad promised he'd take Rom and I out to Egypt with him to the International Association of Quidditch's trainer appreciation week!" With that, he and Sirius started in on an animated discussion of what the IAQ week would entail, with Peter inputting hopeful comments every now and again

* * *

James was the quiet one this trip. Looking out the window at the countryside flying by, he was only half-listening to Sirius and Remus. He knew Moody was on the train. Under an Invisibility Cloak, most likely, and not that far away. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that he didn't get to be a normal kid because of Henri-Richard and Micheline, and it wasn't fair that they weren't going out to Ireland any more like Mum and Dad had promised because of them, and it wasn't fair that he couldn't have any friends over this summer because of them and it wasn't fair that he had to lie to his best friends and say, yeah, he was in England when he was really in the backside of nowhere in some godforsaken country's embassy because of them.

His entire life was being ruined by them. He wanted to go sneaking out of the dormitory at night with his friends without his stupid Auror bodyguard snatching them. He wanted to practice Quidditch without a professor watching in the wings. Damn it, he wanted to go to Hogsmeade next year!

_"Not unless they're caught before the start of term, James. I don't think it's anything remotely resembling a good idea otherwise, and Auror Moody agrees with me."_

_"But Dad!"_

_"This is not a debate, James."_

* * *

"And we get Hogsmeade trips next year!" Sirius crowed.

"I am so excited for that, Rom's told me all sorts of things," Remus agreed gleefully.

"Won't it be fun, James?" Peter asked.

"Yeah, yeah, it will," James said, forcing a smile onto his face and the tenseness out of his voice. "Expect we'll hit Zonko's first, yeah?"

"Honeydukes," Remus and Sirius both disagreed.

* * *

"See you in September, guys!" Remus called cheerfully, before he turned back to greet his mother with a hug.

"Yeah, bye," Sirius called back, his good mood having disappeared the second he'd stepped foot onto the platform. " 'Spect I'll see you soon, James."

"Yeah, see you," James lied through his teeth.

"Come on, boy, your parents are already at the embassy waiting," Moody said roughly, hauling James off to the Floo Network departure line.

* * *

"Where the hell are we?" James asked sullenly as he and Moody climbed out of the fireplace at the security checkstop in the embassy.

"In Kyrgyzstan," Moody replied, "And I wouldn't let your mother hear you talking with an Auror's mouth."

"In Kaya-what?" James asked in dismay. "Are we still on the same planet?"

"Not Kuwait, Kyrgyzstan."

"Aw, come on, we're not seriously here all summer..."

* * *

"If I have be here all summer," James complained at dinner that night, "then I want to go to Hogsmeade at school next year."

"James, we've already discussed this," William warned, taking another sip of his wine. "Unless – "

"I don't bleeding_ care_ about whether or not they've caught them!" James exploded. "Dad, people are going to ask all sorts of questions if I don't get permission to go, and _everybody_ goes!"

"_Everybody_ doesn't have the situation that you do, James!"

"I just want to be _normal_, is that too much to ask?!"

"Yes, James, it is!" William snapped. "Like it or not, you're not normal! You have very unique security needs and – "

"I'm _not_ one of your bleeding ambassadors!"

"That's enough cheek from you, James Phillip Potter!"

"It's bad enough that I have to lie about everything this summer to Sirius and Remus and Peter, and it's bad enough that the professors are watching our Quidditch practices and Moody's bleeding crawling up my – "

"James!" William roared. "Enough!"

"I hate you!" James yelled, standing up angrily from his seat.

"Sit down and hold your tongue!"

"I hate you and I wish you'd never adopted me and they'd just killed me, because then I wouldn't have to worry about anything!"

"James!" William yelled back as James stormed off to his room. "James Phillip Potter, you get the hell back out here!"

"No!"

_

* * *

_

James, where are you? The house-elves in the England house say that you're not there and you're supposed to be in Ireland, but the Ireland house-elves says that you're not there and you're supposed to be in England. We're all getting really worried about you, even Father doesn't seem to know that your family's not in Ireland OR England...

_James, Sirius says you haven't answered any of his owls or any of his Floo calls. Are you all right?..._

_James, please send back a note or something, I'm going to tell Father you've all disappeared if I don't hear from you in a week..._

_James, apparently the IBMA is refusing to answer questions about you, the Quibbler and the Prophet are having a field day with this and apparently Sirius' dad is furious that he wasn't let in on it. Can't you just tell us what's going on?..._

_James, Father says that we mustn't owl you any more, he says that the Bureau shut him down on all investigation into it. They said it's a matter of life or death..._

_What's going on, James? Sirius has said to not owl you..._

* * *

James hurled the pile of seven weeks' worth of letters, the ones addressed to Sirius and Remus unopened, unsent and bound tightly, and the ones sent from Sirius and Remus already opened and bound together tightly, across his father's office, screaming angry curses at his father in frustration as the tears threatened to spill. "I hate you, you bastard! You're stopping my mail! You're locking me up in this stupid, godforsaken, backwater country!"

"James, James, please, it's not doing a speck of good to scream and yell and throw a tantrum," Mairead said softly from the doorway, gripping tightly to the doorframe.

"I'll damn well throw a fit if I want, he's stopping my _damn mail_!"

"James, sweetheart – "

"Don't you _dare_ talk to me like I'm 4!"

"Don't you dare speak to your mother like that!" William snapped, appearing behind Mairead. "And I would watch your mouth before I am forced to wash it out!"

"Do I _sound_ like I bleeding care?" James spat viciously, pushing past his father. "I hate you. I hate all of you. I want you to die so I can go back to England."

Mairead blanched at that snarl. "James, please..." she whispered, feeling William's arm slide protectively around her waist. But James had already stormed out of their quarters and as far away as he could get on the grounds, hurling another volley of angry diatribes at Moody when he headed after him.

"Come on, dear, lie back down," William's soft murmur came into her ear as he gently half-carried her back to bed. "He'll calm down soon enough, you'll see. He doesn't mean it. He doesn't mean it."

Mairead took a shaky breath. "We're losing him, William," she whispered desperately. "We're losing him..."

"We're not losing him, he's just scared and upset," William soothed, stroking her face lightly. "That's all. Calm down, you know it's not good for you to be upset like this."

* * *

"That make you feel any better, boy, breaking your poor mother's heart like that?" Moody asked harshly as he drew behind the young teen angrily hurling stones into the sludgy pond.

"Stuff it, Moody."

"Your parents have risked everything for you, and this is how you repay them. You're an ungrateful little swine, and – "

"Shut up, Moody!" James burst out again, whirling around and hurling a hex at Moody with so little warning that he hadn't had time to react before it hit. "Shut up, you don't know what it's like!" Slightly bolstered by the fact he'd managed to down an Auror, he let loose his frustration on the startled bodyguard. "You don't know what's like to be trapped in a room without anywhere to go or anything to do, scared of your own shadow, jumping at every little noise and not a soul knowing if you were alive and or dead!" He delivered one last blow to the face and stumbled back when Moody jumped to his feet, eyes crackling.

"How about I think that over, and you think over what you just told your mother to do!"

* * *

Mairead had just about cried herself to sleep when she heard the front door opening. Hopefully, she strained to hear the voice talking to William, but to no avail – her hearing wasn't what it used to be. Returning her head to her pillow, she closed her eyes.

"Mum?" came the shaky whisper from the bedside. "Mum, are you still awake?"

"Yes, Jamie darling," she whispered back, turning over as quickly as she could manage. "James, sweetheart, I'm – "

"I'm sorry, Mum, for shouting," he said, his hand closing around hers. "I didn't really mean what I said... I was just angry, and..."

"Jamie, I know this summer has been hard, and it's not easy for Dad and I, either, to keep you locked up like this. I know you wanted to spend the summer in Ireland. But we do it to keep you safe, darling," Mairead said softly. "We love you too much to risk your safety."

"But I shouldn't have said what I did, Mum," James continued doggedly, looking up when William came into the room.

"No, you shouldn't have, James," he said heavily. "But I'm partly to blame for provoking it, I suppose."

"Dad..."

"Listen to me first, then talk," William said sternly. "I've been thinking this whole thing through this evening, and I think it might be prudent to relax a few rules. After all, your mother didn't rescue you from being locked up in one room to keep you locked up in a slightly bigger one. First off, you may send an owl to your friends tonight, explaining what happened, that you will be returning to Ayn's Cove tomorrow and that they are more than welcome to join you for the remainder of the summer. I will clear it with Orion and Walburga tonight, and with John and Anna first thing tomorrow morning, as I know they take a little more persuading to convince." He paused to watch James' expression. "Secondly, I see no reason for Moody to tag along with you everywhere. The man has, after all, already completed school. He agrees to this on one condition, James."

"What?"

"That you and your gang cut down on the midnight snack runs, and that you cut that poor Snape boy some slack." William sent his son a stern look of disapproval.

"What about – "

"I will sign your Hogsmeade form on condition, and I expect you to follow this without complaint. Moody _will_ be following you. You will stay within the village limits. That means no caves, no Shrieking Shack, none of those winding little pathways I know you're fond of exploring. You will not wander off by yourself. You will check in with both Moody and the supervising professors once an hour, in whatever discreet little manner you choose. If you so much as _feel_ something off, you inform Moody straightaway. Any disobedience on this matter, James, and I will have Professor McGonagall burn that permission form."

James nodded.

* * *

"JAMES!" came the two boys' simultaneous yells as they came up the walkway to the Potter estate. Sirius was the first there, throwing his arms around his best friend in a strangle-hold.

"James, you're all right, you're alive, you had me panicking near to death..." Sirius drew back momentarily and then knocked James to the ground. "Don't ever do that to me again!"

"What happened to Moody?" Remus asked, helping James back up to his feet. "Looks like he's been through a war, that one."

"I got a little mad yesterday," James said easily, shrugging. "C'mon, I haven't had a soul to practice Quidditch with all summer!"

"Merlin, James, _you_ did that to a full-blown Auror?"


	9. The Ignotus Complex

**Chapter 8: The Ignotus Complex**

"Boys, boys, come on!" William called up the stairs. "You're going to miss your train! James, get down here now, Moody wants to talk to you!"

He sighed and shook his head when he caught sight of Remus nearly taking a header down the stairs, Sirius managing to catch his ankle right before he fell. He didn't remember being this rough as a child.

Remus seemed to have recovered fully from full moon last week, a neatly repaired gash on his cheek – no doubt courtesy of his mother – the only obvious evidence. But he was laughing as he got to his feet, eyes sparkling, and any misgivings that William might have once harboured about his son's werewolf classmate had definitely vanished. Perhaps Dumbledore had the right idea: people were frightened of what they didn't know. Most of their world had never met a werewolf living amongst them – William had to applaud John and Anna's courage, keeping their son like that. Doubtlessly the boy _would_ have turned out like the world thought of him, had he been sent to the werewolf colonies. But as it was, he might become the first werewolf to prove that a condition didn't necessarily control his life. He still went to school, he still played Quidditch, he still had friends...

"Yeah, Dad?" James asked, appearing at his elbow.

"Go say goodbye to your mum, and then Moody wants to talk to you. Make it snappy, we have to leave in the next fifteen minutes."

"Yeah," James replied, ducking into the master bedroom. Mairead was sitting propped up in bed, reading a book in the semi-darkness. "Mum?"

Looking up, Mairead set aside her book. "Jamie, sweetheart, come here a moment."

"Dad says we got to leave soon for London, Mum, and Moody still wants to talk to me before we go..."

"It won't take long, darling, I promise," Mairead laughed. "Listen, I think it's time for you to get something." She pulled out a package wrapped in scarlet velvet, passing it to him. "Open it up, then," she said with a smile, watching his face as he carefully unwrapped it.

"Mum, is this an – "

"An Invisibility Cloak?" Mairead finished. "Yes, yes it is. Passed down from Ignotus Peverell himself – the youngest of the Three Brothers. I mean for you to use it in emergencies. I daresay you'll find other uses for it?" she said with a twinkle in her eyes. "Just always use it for the side of good, James," she teased slightly – she could already see his mind spinning away, concocting all sorts of lovely boyhood plots. "And I would add this to the pile of things that you don't tell your father," she added.

James frowned at her momentarily.

"You and Sirius really should hide those textbooks and notes in a better place than under your pillows," she said dryly. "You're lucky he hasn't noticed that they're missing yet."

"Oh, no, I Transfigured a couple of blank books to replace them on the shelves, he'll never know they're gone," James said seriously. "You're not angry?"

Mairead smiled and kissed his cheek. "I think that what you're doing is one of the kindest things I've ever seen, Jamie. Go on, then, go see Moody. And hide that Cloak. Have a good term, be good, listen to your teachers, don't cause mischief..."

"Goodbye, Mum," James laughed, tucking the Cloak away.

* * *

"We're going to get the Hogsmeade rules straight right now, boy," Moody said sternly. "You are going to check in with the professors in the Three Broomsticks on every even hour, and with me at the village square on every odd hour. That Cloak of yours stays hidden unless there's need of it – don't act all innocent, Potter, I see that Cloak hidden under your jacket. If I show up and say 'leave', I don't care if you're snogging bloody Celestina Warbeck, you will get the hell out."

"Yessir," James said.

"Very well, then, let's get going."

"So you mean you're actually coming to Hogsmeade with us?" Sirius asked excitedly as the train pulled out of the station. "Your dad actually let you go?"

"Yeah," James replied with a grin. "On conditions, of course. But any way... look what Mum gave me." He pulled out the Cloak from his trunk.

"Oh my gosh, is that an Invisibility Cloak?" Remus asked immediately, all three boys leaning forward to examine it with great interest.

"Yeah," James said in satisfaction.

"Midnight snack runs, anyone?" Sirius said, eyes gleaming with the folly of youth. "Finally, we can sneak past old Moody..."

"Oh, Moody's not in the castle this year," James said brightly, stashing away the Cloak with one last loving caress. "Said to cut down on the snack runs and cut Snape some slack and he'd leave."

"So we only sneak out three nights and we only hex him two days," Sirius continued gleefully.

"Any way," Remus interrupted uneasily, "what classes did you guys pick?"

"You mean what classes did Father pick _for_ me?" Sirius said, cheer dying a bit. "Well, I guess they're not _bad _for classes. I thought Muggle Studies would be interesting. He didn't." He paused for a moment, a dark look flickering across his face. "So any way... I've got Care of Magical Creatures and Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. Blegh..."

"My parents insisted that I take Muggle Studies, actually," James laughed. "Then I've got Care of Magical Creatures and Arithmancy."

"Muggle Studies and Divination," Peter admitted. "Didn't seem as hard as any of the other ones!" he exclaimed defensively when the other three all stared at him. "What about you, Remus?"

"Well, seeing as I can't take Care of Magical Creatures or Divination..." Remus said shortly.

"Yeah, your furry little problem sort of inhibits that, don't it?" James said dryly. Sirius snorted as Remus looked at James with a slight frown. "Well, I got to call it _something_!"

"Well, why can't you?" Peter asked Remus in confusion.

"Oh, Merlin, Peter, are you seriously asking that?" Sirius groaned.

"I don't get it, though," Peter said uneasily. "Why can't he?"

James rolled his eyes in patient irritation. "Because, Peter, Furry Little Problem will come bursting on the scene."

"Well, not necessarily, but I still can't take that risk," Remus corrected. "Magical creatures would know, and either they'd maul me to death or somebody would figure it out when the creatures won't go near me. Divination, all it would take is one student who's actually got the 'sight' or whatever they call it and I'm dead."

"So you're taking Muggle Studies, Arithmancy and Ancient Runes?" Sirius said knowingly. Remus nodded. "Well, at least I've got _somebody_ in Ancient Runes."

* * *

"So?" Sirius asked expectantly, sitting cross-legged on his bed. "Are we going yet?"

"Guys, not tonight, it's first night back!" Remus complained from his own bed. "James, put that cloak away, honestly, you're starting to scare me."

James had the Cloak out on his bed, running the silky smooth fabric through his fingers thoughtfully. "You know, we don't have to go _far_..." he said.

"Just to the kitchens and back," Sirius added hopefully.

"James!" Remus exclaimed. "Sirius! Just because you have it doesn't mean you have to use it! Didn't your mum give that to you for emergency use only, James?"

"It's not like we're hexing Slytherins in the dead of night, Remus," Sirius said patiently. "We just want some snacks."

"And what's the good in having it if you don't use it, Remus?" James asked reasonably.

"So we _are_ going, then?" Sirius asked his best friend happily.

"Be it on your own heads, then," Remus sighed, opening his Potions textbook. Sirius and James both let out whoops of excitement and disappeared under the Cloak. "Bring me back –"

" - a couple of caramel éclairs," came Sirius' voice from the empty spot. "Sure thing. You sure you don't want to come?"

"You really ought to loosen up a bit, Remus, you know," James added. "People are going to start suspecting something's up if you're _always_ following the rules."

"A little bit of mischief now and then won't hurt," Sirius continued.

"Besides, it's just a night trip to the kitchens. How bad can it be?"

* * *

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Remus muttered under his breath. "I cannot _believe_ I am doing this."

"Aw, shush, Remus, we're not doing anything that'll get you expelled," Sirius said dismissively, reaching his hand out from the Cloak momentarily to tickle the pear in the fruit portrait.

The three boys snuck into the open doorway and removed the Cloak.

"Sirs are looking for snacks?" squeaked the one lonely old house-elf in the kitchens. "Hatsy was hoping sirs would come tonight, yes, because Hatsy does so enjoy their company and Hatsy has their treats. But sirs are not all here, no, where is Master Peter?"

"Master Peter's being a stick-in-the-mud and fell asleep in the dorm room," James laughed, dropping down to one of the chairs by the fireplace. "The other elves are all out cleaning the common rooms, I assume?"

"Yes, Master James, they is all out in the houses tonight," Hatsy replied happily, whirling around the kitchens at an amazing speed for a little old elf like her. "And Hatsy is having Master Sirius' knickerbocker glory ready,"

"Excellent!" Sirius said delightedly, taking the glass held out insistently by the elf. "Kreacher could take lessons from you, Hatsy."

"And Master James' Eton mess..."

"You're the best, Hatsy," James grinned, pulling his own dessert towards him.

"And Master Remus' caramel éclairs," Hatsy finished happily, putting down a plateful of the French pastry in front of Remus, whose nervousness seemed to dissipate upon the arrival of his favourite dessert.

* * *

The Invisibility Cloak came in handy a great deal many times that term. Davey Gudgeon, a rather boxy, robust Slytherin in their year, and Severus Snape ended up the unfortunate victims of a mysterious hail of mudballs being chucked at them from the shadows of the forest outside Hogsmeade on the first trip in October. Desperately trying to find the perpetrators, they barreled through the forest straight down into a deep gully, where they crashed into Professors Sprout and March-Rainer (the new Defence professor) in a rather compromising position.

When the two professors came back into the Three Broomsticks, hauling the two students with them to Slughorn, James and Sirius were both back at a table not far away with Remus and Peter, Butterbeers in front of them, the Cloak stowed away in James' bag and the mud from their hands wiped off on the tail of Bertha Jorkins' cloak as they had passed her.

"Better than the wireless," James snickered into his drink as Sirius smirked behind his own as Slughorn began howling at the two errant Slytherins.

"Why do you do that?" Remus asked quietly, tracing a finger over the foamed edges of his glass. "What'd they do to you?"

James and Sirius both fell silent, momentarily abashed at Remus' soft reprimand.

"I mean, can't you just leave them be?" Remus continued. "Why do you insist on tormenting them?"

Their conversation was interrupted by David Wood appearing at the table. "You, you and you. Quidditch practice, right now."

"Now?" Sirius and James both sputtered. "But it's Hogsmeade weekend, Wood!"

"And our match against Slytherin is next weekend!" Wood roared. "We only lost that Cup by a couple of points last year, I'm _not_ losing it this year! You, you and you, back to the Quidditch pitch!"

"Wood!" Sirius protested, even as Remus was sliding out of his chair in resignation and James was trying to figure out how to tip off the teachers and Moody without drawing attention to himself. "Wood, it's our damn first Hogsmeade weekend!"

"And if you want to be beaten by your own brother, Black, you go right ahead!" Wood howled, hauling him out of his chair by his cloak collar.

"What's Regulus got to do with it?" Sirius demanded, yanking himself away.

"They've put him on the empty Seeker spot!"

* * *

"Where were you, boy?" Moody asked harshly that evening as he cornered James on the way in from Quidditch practice. "You had agreed to abide by the rules."

"I'm sorry, Moody, the Quidditch captain dragged me, Remus and Sirius off. I couldn't get away to let you know," James begged. "Please, I'm sorry..."

Moody eyed him skeptically.

"Really," James insisted. "I'm telling the truth, Moody, honest. Don't tell Dad..."

Finally, Moody said, without room for argument, "You're banned from Hogsmeade trips until further notice."

"What?!" James exclaimed. "Why?"

"Because clearly our security measures aren't working!" Moody snapped. "Your father and I need to work out some sort of arrangement with the school to stop this from happening again."

James glared at him. "I hate this. I hate you," he muttered as he shoved past Moody to head to Gryffindor Tower. Entering the common room, he saw Sirius and Remus waiting by the fireplace. "Hey, guys." Sighing heavily, he dropped into an empty chair. "I hate Wood."

"Dislike maybe," Sirius protested. "'Hate' is a little strong of a term for him. I mean, sure, he's a Quidditch maniac, but I'm starting to think that's a Wood thing..."

"He got me banned from Hogsmeade 'until further notice'," James muttered.

"What?" they both exclaimed. "Why?"

"Because Moody thinks they need better security. Figured Wood shouldn't have been able to drag me off without any notice."

* * *

"I'm not going out!" Remus exclaimed, pulling on his pyjama shirt as James and Sirius waited patiently at the door, Cloak in hand. "And you oughtn't be going out either – I mean, you're going to get caught one of these days!"

"Only the stupid get caught, Remus," Sirius said, in an impeccable imitation of his mother.

"Go on, be it on your own heads, then," Remus muttered, opening his Potions textbook resolutely. "Be back in time to help me out with this essay."

"Why don't you work on the Defence paper, Remus?" James asked innocently.

"I know all I will ever want to know about werewolves, thanks," Remus said delicately. "More than I want to know, actually."

James and Sirius both laughed before disappearing under the Cloak.

"Where are they going any way?" Peter asked.

"Oh, some highly amusing prank down Slytherin corridor," Remus sighed. "Likely with the aid of Peeves. Now, to the most wonderful topic in the world. _'The properties of sandalwood knots in antivenoms...'_"

* * *

The results of the expedition were obvious the next morning when the third-year Gryffindors entered the Great Hall.

A number of Slytherins were trooping into the room, dripping wet and mysterious burn marks on their faces and arms.

Sirius and James were both laughing fit to burst, along with several other students in the hall.

"Bit of a stormy night, I heard," Sirius commented, once he'd regained control over himself.

"Particularly for them, it seems," James added.

"Well," Peter admitted to Remus, who was looking rather disapproving, "you have to admit, that's pretty good magic."

* * *

"So where are we for Christmas this year?" James asked blearily as he groped around for his glasses on his side table the day they were due to leave Hogwarts for holidays.

"Dunno," Sirius yawned, sitting up and rumpling his hair. "I think it's somewhere in Asia."

"I love that this isn't even an odd conversation topic anymore," Remus mumbled as he dragged himself out of bed. "Oi, Peter. Wake up, we've got to finish packing."

"Hold on, hold on, I've got it," Sirius said with a sleepy grin. Then, he straightened up and roared, in a pretty damn good imitation of McGonagall, "MASTER PETTIGREW!"

"Yes, ma'am!" Peter yelped automatically, jumping out of bed. He looked around for their deputy headmistress wildly.

The other boys burst into howls of laughter.

* * *

"Oh, _Merlin_..." James groaned as he, Sirius and Regulus entered the Kandahar embassy, accompanied by Moody and one of the attaches. "Dumbledore isn't seriously in Afghanistan."

"Yep," Sirius confirmed. "He sure is. Probably talking to your dad, right?" He directed this question at Moody, who nodded shortly.

"You, your family is in the 3rd floor quarters," he said to Sirius. "Go on, then. You, you're on 5th floor," he added to James. "Your mother is getting anxious to see you. I have to join the discussion here."

"They're learning," Sirius muttered to James, who laughed. "We've got an entire floor between us this time."

"I think Regulus squealing to your father about our midnight Quidditch practices probably did it," James agreed.

"Aren't you supposed to have better aim, being a Chaser and all?" Sirius laughed.

"Aren't _you_ supposed to have better catching skills, being a Chaser and all?" James shot back.

* * *

"Mum?" James called as he opened the door to their quarters. "Mum, you awake?"

"Over here, Jamie," came Mairead's soft call from the sitting room. She was curled up in one of the armchairs with a blanket and a book, and when she looked up, James could see how her face had gotten more drawn and pale since summertime, the dark circles under her eyes more prominent.

Trying to push aside the grim knowledge of reality, James entered the sitting room and let his mother pull him into a tight hug, though it was definitely weaker than it had been in August and her arms kept trembling. "Happy Christmas, Mum," he greeted, kissing her cheek.

"Jamie, darling, I swear you grow a foot every time you come home," Mairead said affectionately. "Come sit down, come tell me about your term. Just tell you haven't fallen prey to the Ignotus Complex with that Cloak."

"The what?" James asked curiously, sinking down onto the couch beside her.

"The Ignotus Complex, my da always called it," Mairead laughed. "Otherwise known as the raising of hell with help of a certain Invisibility Cloak."

"No, of course not," James said a little too quickly. "I have raised not so much as an ember of hell."

"So what's this I hear about a couple of boys in your year being pelted with mud from out of nowhere on the October Hogsmeade trip?" Mairead asked knowingly. "Oh, you'd be surprised what Moody knows, James," she added when he looked at her questioningly.

"Who, Severus Snape and Davey Gudgeon?" James asked innocently. "That wasn't raising hell, Mum, that was just having a little fun. Raising hell would be setting Storm Hexes down the corridor to Slytherin dormitory every twenty feet."

"Semantics," Mairead laughed as he grinned at her. "We'll make a politician out of you yet."

"So that was you, was it?" came Dumbledore's amused voice behind James. "You and Master Black, I assume?"

"Did I say I'd actually done such an act? No, I didn't say that. I was merely using an example, Professor," James said quickly.

Dumbledore laughed. "I think the statute of limitations on that one has long since passed, James."

* * *

"We can't keep the boy locked up forever, William," Moody's low voice came from the kitchen area that evening.

James propped himself up a little higher, whispering "_Amplifio,_" in order to better hear the conversation.

"It's next to impossible, William, to keep James under constant surveillance without confining him to the embassy," Dumbledore's calm agreement chimed in.

"Don't tempt me," William muttered darkly. "They've already breached Hogwarts walls once. How much longer can they possibly evade capture?"

"I don't know, William," Moody replied. "Could be an hour, could be a decade."

"Maybe we _should_ pull him out of Hogwarts, just for the time being," William murmured worriedly. "I know Mairead would feel so much better with him here."

"He wouldn't tolerate it for long, William," Moody said grimly. "Remember the summer? I don't fancy being beaten by a 14-year-old again."

"Much as I understand your concern, William," Dumbledore spoke up in a gentle but firm voice, "and I _do_ sympathize with the situation, James... James is the sort of boy who needs the crowds. Ultimately, keeping him here might keep him physically safe, but it would destroy him."

William sighed, as James held his breath. "Yes, yes, I suppose you're right. It's just... it's difficult to be caught between these two desires. I want him safe and I want him happy, and right now, it looks like those two are polar opposites."


	10. Summer 1973

A/N: Don't worry, the drama is coming, the drama is coming!

**Chapter 9: Summer 1973**

The Great Hall was buzzing with whispers on the last day. Those who read the _Daily Prophet_ or listened to the WWN were all discussing the same thing.

"Those two escapees were spotted out in Colombia last night," Mary Macdonald was whispering to Lily down the table from where the Marauders were gathered. "They say the Aurors at the English embassy tried to snag them but couldn't."

"They must really be something, to avoid being captured this long," Lily whispered back. "I mean, didn't they break into Hogwarts and not get captured?"

"Yeah, that was the year before this, right?" Mary replied. "I wonder why..."

* * *

"Where were you guys supposed to be going this summer?" Remus asked in a low voice.

"Colombia," Sirius muttered back.

"Something tells me we're not going now," James agreed. He took another bite out of his toast, just as Moody came striding into the Hall with a few of the embassy Aurors. Groaning, he set down his toast. "And he's not even bothering to be subtle about it..." he muttered darkly.

The whispers intensified as Moody stopped next to the staff table. Speaking briefly to Dumbledore, he headed back towards the exit with the Aurors as Dumbledore stood up and said calmly,

"The following students will please prepare to depart immediately: Henryk Quinn, Rachel Fielding, Nicholas Kalen, Emily Ray, Sirius Black, James Potter and Regulus Black."

"Okay, he's being mildly subtle about it," James grumbled as he and Sirius, along with Regulus, the three Ravenclaws and the Hufflepuff named got up.

"All the Consulate kids," Sirius agreed quietly. "See you in September, guys," he said ruefully to Remus and Peter.

"If we're allowed out of the embassy by then," James added grimly.

"What's going on?" Lily was asking Mary as they passed.

"Must be security. All those students have parents who work at the embassies..."

* * *

"Sorry to interrupt your breakfasts," the head embassy Auror said apologetically to the students gathered in the hall. "Embassies are so slow in processing with the security breach now; you need to leave now to get in by dinner tonight. Does anybody know where they're going?"

"I thought we were in Colombia, us," Regulus spoke up.

"No, the Bogota embassy's been evacuated. All right. Henryk, you'll be going with Winston here to Sydney."

"Australia, excellent, somewhere that speaks English finally," the seventh-year Hufflepuff said briskly. "What about our stuff?"

"Already been transported," his accompanying Auror said.

"Rachel and Nick, you're both headed to the Copenhagen embassy with Timothy. Emily, you're going to Sao Paulo with Vincent. Sirius and Regulus, you'll be with Ryan to Fiji – "

"Fiji?!" James exclaimed in outrage. "_Fiji_?!"

"Ha! Sun, sand and surf, here I come!" Sirius cackled.

"And James, Alastor's taking you to – "

"Transnistria," Moody finished, already steering James towards the doors.

"Transnistria?" he heard Sirius laughing to his accompanying Auror. "Where the hell's that? How come James gets to go all the weird places?"

"Please tell me that Transnistria at least has a beach," James grumbled to Moody.

* * *

"Is it September yet?" James asked, tossing aside another textbook. "I can't do anything out here."

"Do your homework, then," William said shortly, looking up from his files.

"Did it the first week," James replied dryly. "Are you _sure_ we can't ask Sirius and Remus and Peter out here?"

"Positive," William replied. "The embassies have all tightened security so much it takes _me_ a month to get clearance. By the time they'd have gotten clearance to come, it would be time to go back to London. And Remus can forget about clearance completely. The embassy wouldn't let him within a thousand kilometres."

"Can I write letters at least?"

"Can't promise that they'll make it out of the embassy in a reasonable time frame, they're scanning every letter."

"But they _will_ get out?" James asked, already scrambling for his discarded quills, ink and parchment.

"Eventually," William laughed. "You've only got three more weeks, James, and then it's back to school. Take heart."

"Ugh, Dad, I don't think I'm going to make it," James groaned.

"You could always come down to the offices with me and play fetcher for a few weeks," William suggested sympathetically.

"Don't tempt me," James said dryly. "Dad," he continued after a moment, "How did Henri-Richard and Micheline get into the embassy in Bogota? I thought security was tightened at our embassy weeks before I even arrive."

William sighed. "We're still not sure, James. The Aurors are running a full investigation to find out how they even found out where we were going. The Bureau has been giving less and less notice to Orion and I about our assignments to try and lessen the chance of them finding out somehow. Colombia, we'd had less than twelve hours notice. Barely enough time to complete paperwork. It almost seems like an inside job." He watched his teenage son's face blanch.

"You think somebody inside the embassy is passing information?" he asked hoarsely.

"It seems a very likely possibility at the moment, James, I'm not going to lie," William said quietly. "We're concentrating our investigation on support staff with a French tour under their belt, or staff with French connections."

"William, do you need to fill his head with ideas like that?" came Mairead's quiet, shaky voice from the master bedroom's doorway. "He's just a boy. Don't scare him senseless."

"Mum, it's fine, really, I want to know what's going on," James said softly, getting up to help her make her way to the couch.

Mairead smiled faintly at him. "Who taught you to be such a gentleman, Jamie?" she asked, as he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

"You did, Mum," James laughed.

"Oh, you're too darling to be my child," Mairead sighed with a smile. "Play some chess with me while your father finishes up?"

"Sure," James replied.

_

* * *

_

She had a silver knife in her hand. He didn't like that knife. She would always take it in her hand and bring it down to his eye level as she whispered, "Tu sais comment ce jeu se joue, petit Jacques…" (You know how this game is played, little Jacques…) and she would touch just the tip of the knife to his throat, tracing a path down as he tried desperately not to move. The slightest tremble, the smallest jump, the tiniest sob and the knife would come slicing into him.

_The knife would travel for hours across his body, as she would smile softly in that mad way of hers and occasionally dig a little deeper just to terrify him._

* * *

James woke up when the window slammed down. Grabbing his glasses, he gasped in pain at the sudden burn of cuts on his upper body. As he shoved his glasses on, James snatched up his wand. "_Lumos_," he gasped, then barely bit back the scream when he realized that the sheets, his hands, the lenses on his glasses where he'd grabbed them, his pyjamas… all of them were shredded, soaked in blood. "Merlin…"

It hadn't been a dream. It was real.

Stumbling to his feet in horror, James backed himself into the corner, trying to illuminate as much of the room as possible. He blanched and dropped his wand as the light flashed over the glistening red words painted on the wall.

_JACQUES__-ANTOINE DES PERREAULTS-DE-CHAMPAGNE_

_LA TEMPS S'APPROCHE_

"Moody!" James yelled, not even caring if he woke the entire embassy at this point. "Moody!"

Moody burst in seconds later. "What?" he asked, stopping when he saw his charge covered in blood. "Merlin's beard, boy, what happened?..."

James pointed wordlessly to the wall. "She was here. I thought I was only having a nightmare… but she was here…"

"All right, all right, sit down," Moody said gruffly, even as James slid down to the ground, still shaking. "I'll get Healer Aubrey up here."

"I think she left through the window, I woke up when the window slammed shut," James whispered.

"You left the damn window _open_?" Moody demanded angrily.

"No!" James said defensively. "I locked it and everything too! Where were _you_ when she was climbing up the bleeding embassy's wall?"

"What's going on here, James, it's two in the mor – " his father stopped midway into his reprimand, blanching at the sight. "James, what the hell happened in here?"

"Excuse me, sir, I need to pass," came Healer Aubrey's brisk voice as she eased past William. "All right, Master Potter, let me see what's been done here," she added, a little more gently.

* * *

James was still shaking five hours later when they'd arrived back in England to find the Blacks waiting at their London house.

"Hey, what's going on?" Sirius asked worriedly. "Father says there was some sort of problem in Transnistria?"

"Yeah," James replied quietly. "They broke into our quarters. Sliced me up…" his voice trembled and he dropped to the ground again. "Wrote on the wall in my blood."

"Merlin…" Sirius whispered, sliding down to the ground beside his best friend. "Are you okay?"

"I'm alive, aren't I?" James said wryly.

"What'd they write?" Sirius asked softly.

"_'La temps s'approche'_…" James answered. "'The time is coming'."

"Merlin…" Sirius repeated. "You don't think they're actually _planning_ something?"

"Moody and Dad think so," James replied.

"So what's going to happen?"


	11. An Unending Nightmare

**Chapter 10: Unending Nightmare**

"Hey, guys, how was the summer?" Peter greeted cheerfully as Sirius and James came into the compartment on the Express.

"Spare me the cheer and goodwill, my summer sucked," James grumbled darkly, dropping into a seat. "My whole life just keeps going further downhill every time I leave Hogwarts."

"What happened?" Remus asked sympathetically.

"Oh, Micheline broke into our quarters and sliced me open while I was sleeping," James said with sarcastic casualness. "And somehow nobody saw her climbing up or back down the walls and nobody heard a thing. Not to mention that we had to special order my school stuff this year and send it by owl to about five different countries to mask the fact we were actually in London because Moody's restricted us to the house. I've lost my Hogsmeade privileges until they're caught, Moody's tailing me in school again this year and with all due luck he's probably going to try taking away my Quidditch. Any other stupid questions?"

"So I guess that means no kitchen raids?" Sirius asked with a completely straight face.

There was dead silence in the compartment for a minute before they all burst out laughing, the first smile in a month breaking loose on James' face.

* * *

"James, I thought you said…" Peter started to protest, as James was digging out his Invisibility Cloak from his trunk.

"Screw Moody, I want treacle tart," James replied dismissively, with an edge of warning in his voice. "You guys coming?"

Sirius, Remus and Peter all exchanged worried glances. From what they understood, Moody's orders had been pretty clear-cut: no unauthorized wandering, and surely Moody would be expecting the Cloak to make an appearance?

"You coming or aren't you?" James demanded sharply.

"Yeah, all right," Sirius finally relented, jumping off his bed. Remus and Peter both wavered for a moment longer, until James finally snapped,

"_Sacrement, Remus, on sais tous que c'est toi le préfet l'année prochaine, détends-toi alors!_" (For God's sake, Remus, we all know you're the prefect next year, relax already!)

Nobody said a word in the moments following the angry burst of French.

"What the hell did you just say?" Sirius asked slowly, turning to look at his best friend.

"Are you deaf?" James asked in exasperation. "Merlin, maybe I _don't_ want you coming with me."

"I'm not deaf, I just don't speak French, _Jacques_," Sirius replied pointedly.

"What?" James asked slowly, face blanching.

"You just yelled at Remus in French."

* * *

"Nice try, Potter. Cloak off," Moody said gruffly, snagging the edge of James' Cloak as the group of young teens tried slipping past him at the entrance to Gryffindor Tower.

"Damn it, Moody…" James grumbled, yanking the Cloak back from his bodyguard.

"You three, back upstairs to your dormitory, now," Moody growled. "You, take a seat," he ordered, gesturing to an empty armchair and steering James toward it. Sirius, Remus and Peter all trickled back upstairs, Remus casting a worried glance behind him.

"I suppose you're going to tell me that it was stupid and thoughtless and I'm quite possibly the biggest prat you've ever seen for wandering around unguarded and dragging in my friends?" James muttered, eyes focused resolutely on the fireplace.

"The thought crossed my mind," Moody replied. "I would have thought, Potter, that this summer's incident would've opened your eyes to the amount of danger surrounding you at the 

moment. At very least, I distinctly remember your mother pleading with you to not play daredevil with demons."

"I wasn't playing daredevil," James replied stubbornly. "You obviously saw us. It wasn't like I was venturing out of grounds, I was just going to the kitchens."

"Potter, haven't you realized by now that nowhere is impenetrable?" Moody demanded. "Merlin, boy, they've already broken through Hogwarts' defences once, or have you forgotten? They broke through the most sophisticated defence system Magical Law Enforcement has ever developed, a level far beyond anything the damn Ministers themselves have ever had! After that message on the wall, they clearly have some sort of plan in mind and your nighttime wanderings are not making my job any easier!"

"I am _not_ letting them control my life!" James burst out. "I'm through playing by their rules! Let them try and get me in the school, I'll kill them!"

"You will do no such thing!" Moody said sharply.

"Why not?" James threw back at him. "They clearly have no qualms about killing _me_!"

"They're madmen, James, whose madness has only been intensified by their years in Champs-Désolés!" Moody exclaimed.

"I'm telling you, I'm through hiding in rooms and creeping through hallways, always looking over my shoulder and wondering where the hell they are! Clearly _your_ rules aren't working, so I'm playing by my own!"

"Get your sorry, ungrateful ass back up to bed and pray that I don't tell your father what you've said, because that will _definitely_ end with you locked up at the Consulate! _Get going_!"

Glowering at him once more, James got to his feet and stormed back to the dormitory.

* * *

"James, are you on some sort of quest to get yourself expelled?" Remus asked in exasperation as they walked out of Transfiguration, another heaping serving of detention dropped upon James and Sirius. "Honestly, I mean – "

"Oh, what do you care, Remus, it's a Hogsmeade weekend," James grumbled, exchanging a dark look with Sirius.

"You know, I'm not the one who put you on house arrest, there's no need to bite _my_ head off," Remus said pointedly. "C'mon, let's go sit outside, it's one of the last decent days this year."

"You know, he has a point, Jay," Sirius admitted.

"Yeah, I guess. Sorry, Remus," James muttered, dropping to the ground beneath the birch tree. "It just... it seems like everything is spinning out of control now..."

"I know," Remus said quietly, opening his Arithmancy textbook. "Trust me, I know that feeling." He sighed and continued, "So in the context of spell emission, how many waves would it take to produce a levitation height of 25 feet, if the subject is 145 pounds, 12 ounces and 5'9"?"

"None," Sirius answered promptly, "because the levitation spell is not a wave, but a swish and flick."

"How many swishes, then?" Remus corrected himself. "Height of 25 feet, 145 pound, 12 ounce subject at 5'9"."

"42," James answered immediately. "Provided that the distribution of weight is even in the subject, meaning that he doesn't have some central body mass like a pot belly or an abnormally large nose..."

"Speaking of Snivellus," Sirius said casually.

"Leave him," Remus ordered, even as James and Sirius were sliding their wands out of their pocket. "Leave him, guys – "

"Aw, stop ruining our fun, Remus," James replied dismissively. "What do you figure, Seer, 23 swishes?"

"Let's see, 5'4", probably a goodly 125," Sirius mused. "When for each pound per foot requires 1.5 swishes, a height of 25 feet and 125 pound subject..."

"But taking into account that the nose throws off calculations..."

"Guys," Remus began to protest again.

"Try that new one he was muttering about earlier," Sirius suggested to James.

"What, you mean – _Levicorpus_!"

* * *

"He seems mildly stuck," James commented to Sirius, as the two were circling around the helpless, hovering Slytherin in an almost predatory manner.

"So, Snivellus, care to give us the counter?" Sirius asked Snape in a mock paternal tone. Snape spat a few cursing words in his direction. "Oh, now that wasn't nice, Snivellus."

"We could leave him up there indefinitely," James suggested, ignoring Moody's pointed jab in his back from beneath another invisibility cloak. "But I suppose Evans'll come to his rescue, and I'm sort of getting tired of her yelling at me."

"So, let's work it through. Aw, Flitwick would be so proud of us," Sirius sighed. "Doing NEWT level problem-solving..."

"So getting him up is _levi-_, standard prefix for levitation spells of all sorts,"

"Followed by _–corpus_, standard suffix designating a body of some kind."

"So the counterjinx would have _–corpus_ in it, to release the body..."

"And probably something like _libera-_, wouldn't you think?"

"Let's try it," James shrugged. "What harm is there? _Liberacorpus_!"

* * *

"Moody, you're not my mother, don't lecture me," James said irritably as he, Sirius and Remus were heading down to the Quidditch pitch for practice.

From the empty space directly in front of the three boys, Moody replied, "Being who you are does not give the two of you license to torment every poor soul that crosses your path – "

"Hey, being a Black gives _me_ license to do anything and everything to anyone and everyone," Sirius muttered.

"You're going to end up somewhere you do _not_ want to be if you keep going like this – "

"You're my bodyguard, Moody, not my ethics professor," James grumbled. "Shut up and do your job."

There was dead silence for a minute, Remus and Sirius both staring incredulously at James, before Moody's clipped, terse response came. "Clearly your father and I made a mistake in allowing you to return to school."

* * *

"See you," Remus said quietly as the train pulled into Platform 9 ¾.

"Yeah, have a good Christmas," Peter agreed softly as the four friends disembarked.

Both Sirius and James made unenthusiastic replies, James muttering under his breath as Moody reappeared amongst the crowds. "See you after break," James said to the others, before taking off after Moody, who was gesturing to him with short, curt movements.

"Yeah," Sirius sighed, turning around and trudging back towards his own family.

* * *

There was a quiet hustle and bustle at Pine Cove, the London house. A full team of Healers were going to and fro from the master bedroom, making James' heart race.

"Your mother is not feeling well, Potter, you would do good to behave yourself," Moody muttered pointedly.

"How long have the Healers been here?" James asked warily.

William came out, his face worn and drawn. "Oh, James, good. Come in and say hello to your mother." He wrapped an arm around James' shoulders quickly and directed him towards the master bedroom. "She's a little disoriented," he murmured softly to his son. "But she was adamant that she wanted to see you as soon as you got in."

"Dad, what's – "

"Later, James, later," William replied. "Just… don't upset her. Good to have you home," he added. "Go on, then, say hello."

James cast one last questioning glance at his father before he ducked into the bedroom. "Mum?" he said tentatively.

Mairead was lying down in bed, eyes closed. She didn't stir once when he tried again, but as James turned to leave, she sat up with some difficulty, saying in a soft, hoarse rasp, "Jamie, come here. You really ought to speak louder, darling, I couldn't hear you properly." Her wan face split into a smile as he slid into the chair next to her. "My goodness, James, you've grown about three feet in the last four months. Do any of your robes still fit?"

"Yeah, they all fit, Mum, we just got new ones this summer," James said with a frown.

"Good, good," she murmured. "So?" she asked expectantly. "Tell me all about first year, sweetheart, you really don't write home often enough to get a good understanding."

James paused for a moment, thoroughly confused. "Fourth year, you mean?"

"Fourth?" she asked with a frown.

"I started _fourth_ year in September, not first," James corrected.

* * *

When James came back out of the master bedroom, leaving his mother to her slumber, Moody and William were arguing in the kitchen.

"He's out of control, William!"

"It's not your place to be making judgment calls on _my_ son's behaviour, Alastor, let alone reprimanding him!"

"Well, somebody ought to, because nobody here is! He's a bully, William, a bully and a troublemaker!"

"Would you keep your voice down, Alastor? James is under a lot of stress – "

"Which doesn't excuse his behaviour!"

"You are _not_ his guardian, Auror Moody! And I will thank you kindly to stick to the job you were trained for!"

"Him gallivanting around after-hours and hexing everyone in sight, smashing every single rule put in place to protect him into smithereens and blatantly ignoring basic safety protocol is making it impossible to do my job!"

* * *

"James?" William asked as he knocked on his son's door the evening before his return to Hogwarts. "I need to speak to you for a moment."

James looked up from his studying, shoving the Animagy textbook under his pillow surreptitiously. "Are you going to tell me what's going with Mum now?" he asked pointedly. "You kept changing the subject right through break."

William sighed as he sat down on the edge of James' bed. "True. True enough. Well, James, your mother's caught some sort of virus, and it's made her mind go a little out of sync with the rest of her. You might have noticed yesterday that she was convinced you were six." Pausing for a moment, William ran a hand through his grey hair. "The Healers are doubtful that she'll ever fully recover. This virus has 

further weakened her immune system. Even if the virus hadn't hit her, the Healers say it's a normal progression of Ceara's." He stopped again, closing his eyes. "I haven't the heart to tell her about Henri-Richard and Micheline, James, and I hope to Merlin you haven't told her either."

James shook his head.

"The other thing you should know, James, is that Auror Moody has resigned from your security detail. Right now, I haven't any more Aurors at my disposal, whether private or through the Bureau. Do you realize what I am telling you?"

James' heart stopped. "You mean, I haven't any protection? Any at all?"

"That's right," William replied, "so I beg of you, James, do not do anything reckless now. _Please_… just behave yourself at school this term."


	12. Summer 1974

**Chapter 11: Summer 1974**

"So, James?" Sirius asked expectantly as the train was pulling into the platform. "What godforsaken, never-heard-of, backwater country are you heading to this summer?"

James looked back from the window, his eyes still flickering around the platform nervously. "Oh, we're going to Mexico. Mum's been begging since Christmas to go, so Dad's arranged a transfer for the summer."

Sirius looked at him with a frown. "Your mother hates Mexico."

James gave him a wry grin. "Mum thinks she's never been there. Goes into a panic every time Dad or I try to bring her back to present, so we've just been sort of playing along as best we can."

"How does that work?" Remus asked curiously. "I mean, didn't she think you were eleven when you came back from Easter break?"

"Apparently she thinks I'm four now, and I've just been released from hospital," James replied dryly. "Dad told her Parisian Child and Family Services had taken me into custody until the trials were through. Before that, I was sleeping over at Sirius' for a month straight."

***

James sighed as he climbed out of the fireplace at the Cabo San Lucas embassy, seeing the long line-up of people waiting to get inside. He hated waiting, especially out in the open like this. It was begging for Henri-Richard and Micheline to take a shot… maybe he'd been around Moody too long.

"Oh, hi, James!" Henryk Quinn greeted from somewhere nearby. "Just got back from London, I imagine?"

"Hey, Henryk," James greeted in return. "I take it you're interning in Mexico?"

"Yep," Henryk laughed. "And my mother is fussing in Iceland over me. Your dad's still up in his office conferencing with Switzerland. One of the Healers is up in your quarters with your mum. You know the drill, I hope."

"Yeah, yeah, I do," James sighed. "Where's the personnel and family line?"

"You're standing in it." James looked down the line at the security entrance about hundred people ahead of him and groaned.

"Can I be a visitor?"

***

James was starving by the time he'd passed through security and found his family's ninth-floor quarters. "Hello?" he called as he entered the flat. "Hello? Dad? Mum?"

Mairead appeared from around the corner of the hallway, hand on the wall for support. "I'm sorry, young man, you must have the wrong quarters," she said, her voice hoarse. "It's just my husband and I here."

James stared at her momentarily, then blinked. "Oh, all right. Is Mister Potter around? My dad says you might like some help around the flat this summer, odd jobs and the like. I'm here until fall term starts again…"

"Well, isn't that just the sweetest thing I've ever heard!" Mairead exclaimed delightedly. "Let me see if I can't find William around somewhere in here… what was your name again, dear?"

"Um, James," he replied quickly, setting down his trunk in the front entranceway. "James… Perrault."

"Oh, that's the, ah, the French gentleman downstairs, isn't it?" Mairead asked. "William?"

"Yes, dear?" William asked, coming in from the balcony. "Oh, James, good, you've arrived."

"Now James here says that his father has loaned him to us for the summer, William, isn't that nice? The French gentleman downstairs, I do believe…"

"That _is_ wonderful, dear, now why don't you go sit out on the balcony and enjoy the breeze while James and I start dinner?" William gently but firmly steered his wife out towards the balcony, casting an apologetic glance at his son. He returned moments later, sighing as he rubbed the back of his neck wearily. "I'm sorry, James – "

"You couldn't have _warned_ me?" James hissed at him, kicking his trunk off to the side. "I was standing downstairs waiting to get in for _five hours_ and you couldn't have come down and _warned_ me?"

"We don't know any more from day to day what she'll be like, James!" William replied, yanking open a cupboard. "She didn't recognize _me_ yesterday morning, James, and I've been around since 1928! She was asking about you this afternoon."

There was a tense silence for a few minutes before James asked quietly, "She's going fast, isn't she?"

William sighed again and nodded. "The Healers still don't think she's going to make it to the end of the year."

***

_The woman watched from a short distance away, watching the elderly couple and the teenage boy eat their dinner inside the flat. He seemed bigger, somehow, better muscled than he had been last summer. He must've been working hard at his Quidditch this year. He was taller, too._

_His symptoms would start to manifest soon, and after that it would be a painful process to death. It was by lucky chance that the old lady had started going downhill now as well, but it worked out perfectly._

_Soon he would know what it was like to lose everything._

_"On reste?" her husband asked softly, his hand coming down on her thigh lightly. (Are we staying?)_

_She cast another glance at the three inside and shook her head. __"Non. Non, ils retourneront à Londres. On les attendent là-bas." __(No. No, they'll return to London. We'll wait for them there.)_

***

"Dad, you feeling all right?" James asked worriedly, watching his pallid-faced father walk slowly towards the kitchen. Merlin, his mother still moved faster than him today, and it took her twenty minutes to cross the flat.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," William waved him off. "Just getting old. It's an inherent problem of humanity, James, don't do it."

James rolled his eyes and caught his father's arm. "Dad, sit down at the table. What do you want for breakfast this morning?"

"Perhaps just some tea, James, some tea with a small bit of cream."

"I said breakfast, Dad. What do you want to eat?" James prompted. "You have to have something, Mr. Black is coming with Sirius this afternoon. He wants to go over that ambassadorial proposal from Geneva with you."

"I'm really not hungry this morning, James, but thank you," William replied with a sigh. "Would you pass me the Swiss file from the countertop there? If Orion is coming today, I'd best catch up on my reading. Hungary has been keeping me on my toes the last few weeks. Why don't you go eat out on the balcony with your mother? I imagine she'll be ready for some breakfast by now, she's been up since 3 AM."

"Sure," James agreed. He grabbed a pile of toast and went back out towards the balcony – apparently Mexico was much better the second time around. Mairead was out in one of the recliners, watching the young families out on the beachfront. "Mum?"

Turning around, Mairead steadied herself on the arm of her chair. "Oh, good morning, James," she greeted, and James relaxed slightly. The look in her eyes said that today she recognized him. Maybe as a couple of years younger, but he could live with that. "What, is your father starving himself again?"

"Well, he says he's not hungry," James replied, sliding into the chair next to her. "But I hate to eat alone. What are you watching?"

Mairead sighed. "Oh, I was just watching the beach. Thinking that it doesn't seem so long ago that you were that small."

"Oh, Merlin, Mum," James groaned, "we aren't going down Memory Lane again, are we?"

"Well, I have to practice," Mairead said with a laugh. "One day you're going to bring a girlfriend home to meet me and I'll be damned if I don't have a thousand embarrassing stories to tell her." She sighed again. "So, darling, tell me about school this year. It _was_ fourth, right?" When he nodded, she smiled. "For the briefest moment, I thought you had just finished third. I suppose just a mother's way of wishing her little boy hadn't grown up."

***

"Hey, Potters, how goes it?" came Sirius' cheerful greeting from the doorway as he came out onto the balcony. "Hi, Mrs. Potter."

"Oh, hello, Sirius dear," Mairead greeted with a smile. "Come sit, come sit. James was just telling me that you and he had quite the adventure with Care of Magical Creatures."

"Oh, you'd have to be more specific, Mrs. Potter, we have a great number of adventures in Care of Magical Creatures," Sirius laughed, dropping down into the spare deck chair.

"The Clabberts," James told him with a grin.

"Oh, yeah, that was good," Sirius agreed. "I didn't know Clabberts liked Pepper Imps so much."

"I didn't know it was possible to eat that many Pepper Imps at once," James added.

"I don't think it's advisable to eat that many Pepper Imps at once."

***

"William, are you certain you're feeling all right?" Orion asked worriedly.

"I'm fine, Orion, just a little overwrought, perhaps," William replied, hands trembling as he set down his quill once more. "Now, for the Lucerne conference – "

"William, I think we're done for the day. Head back to London, you need to be back at home where others can take care of Mairead. You're wearing yourself out."

***

James woke up one morning to hear nothing but the silence of the house – even the house-elves hadn't started their morning chores yet. "Six more days, and I can go back to Hogwarts…" he muttered to himself as he got dressed. "Cor, I'm bored…"

Sirius was still stuck in Switzerland until September 1, and James was under strict orders from his father and mother not to leave the estate. Even Remus and Peter couldn't get in to visit. There was only so many times he could rewrite his History of Magic paper. If he tried to practice or study his Animagy any more, he would go mad. He didn't really even have the chance to talk to anybody anymore: his mother had been bedridden and so ill she couldn't communicate as of late, and his father had gone the same route a week ago. With the whole estate on lockdown – no one in and no one out – he didn't even get the chance to go to Diagon Alley for his new school supplies. They'd arrived by secure post last week.

Sighing, James flopped down into the chair at his desk and pulled out his parchment and quill. Maybe he'd rewrite his Arithmancy paper now. He could send another owl to Sirius and Remus and Peter, but none of them would appreciate a 5 AM owl on the last week of holidays.

He heard the elves get up and begin cooking in the kitchens at about 6 AM, and setting down his quill, James got up to head for the kitchens.

"Master James is up quite early today," one of the elves greeted in his squeaky voice. "Is Master James hungry already? Vivo can have his breakfast ready in ten minutes, if Master James wishes."

"Master James is bored to death, Vivo," James admitted, leaning back against the wall. "Can I help at all in the kitchens?"

"Oh, no, oh, no, Vivo is handling it quite well, sir, if Master William knew Vivo was allowing Master James to do servants' work…"

"All right, Vivo, just thought I'd ask," James sighed, wandering back out.

He looked out the bay window in the parlour at the forests surrounding the estate, and he had to do a double-take as he caught sight of a figure disappearing back into the shadows. 'James, don't be ridiculous, even Henri-Richard and Micheline aren't fool enough to storm the estate,' he told himself sternly as he turned away. 'It's probably a guard or something. Some village kid poking around for kicks.'

***

It was the scream from one of the house-elves which first alerted James to something very wrong in Pine Cove.

In his later years, James would look back on that day and remember very little of it: a blur of Aurors, Healers and Bureau workers. The Blacks arrived in midday, Sirius immediately making his way to James (who had tucked himself in the most out-of-the-way, inner corner of the house, shaking uncontrollably).

"Hey, man, what happened? Do you know?" Sirius asked softly, sitting down next to James and wrapping an arm around his best friend. "Nobody's told us much."

James took a few deep breaths. "I guess it was a little more than the flu. The Healers' current diagnosis is meningitis. An hour ago it was influenza. This morning it was stroke. Damn it, I don't understand how it got so bad so quickly!" he burst out angrily. "He was just _tired_!"

"How bad is it?" Sirius asked in unison with his father, who was hassling the Healer coming out of the master bedroom.

James looked up for the first time, and Sirius saw the bloodshot eyes and his heart dropped.

"He's dead." The last person standing between him and Henri-Richard and Micheline. Dead.


	13. The Calm Before the Storm

**Chapter 12: Th****e Calm Before the Storm**

_Ayn's Cove – August 31, 1974:_

"James, really, don't worry about a thing," Jude said reassuringly to his young cousin as James opened his mouth to start asking questions again. "Aunt Mairead will be fine here. Kathleen's a Healer, you know that. Just go back to school and try not to fuss anymore."

James sighed and sank back down to the couch. "Yeah, I know," he said quietly. "It's just… we've had some security issues lately, and with Dad not here…" he trailed off, his voice cracking slightly. Nobody really knew the truth about what was going on. Not even Orion Black knew the whole of it. How was he supposed to explain that he was scared that Henri-Richard and Micheline were coming after his mother next – his defenseless mother?

Because he knew. He knew, even if the Aurors and the Healers all decided it had just been bad health. He knew that they had somehow been behind it.

"I swear, James, we won't let anything happen to her," Jude repeated, sitting down beside him. "Now what time was your train leaving in London?"

"It leaves at 11 tomorrow," James replied, his mind still whirling away with concerns. "I'll head out tomorrow morning a little earlier than normal, just to make sure I'm there in time. My friends are supposed to be meeting me at the platform. I'll be fine."

"You sure you don't want me to come with you?" Jude asked. He grinned when James gave him an unimpressed look. "Right, yeah, you're 15; you can do it your own self." He ruffled James' hair affectionately for a moment and then stood up. "Have a good term, yeah? Wear that badge with pride."

James laughed slightly, looking back at the Quidditch captain badge lying on the coffee table. "Yeah, thanks, Jude." When his cousin had left, he went to go find a parchment and a quill. Whatever Jude said, James knew that there was only one person he trusted to guard his mother's safety with their life.

***

Early the next morning, James bid his catatonic mother farewell and stepped into the Floo Network to travel to London. He landed at the International Bureau of Magical Affairs office with plenty of time to spare, checked in with the security office out of sheer habit and then made his way to King's Cross by Muggle bus.

At the station, Remus and Sirius were already waiting for him at Platform 10. Peter arrived the same time as James from Platform 9.

"Hey, James, you all right?" Remus greeted quietly.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," James said. "You, on the other hand, look like the Hogwarts Express just ran you over. C'mon, let's get to the platform and find a compartment. I don't feel like running into – "

"Hey, what's those shiny things on your chests?" Sirius interrupted suddenly, a teasing grin on his face as both James and Remus flushed. "What's this? A prefect and a Quidditch captain? What has this year come to? _Responsibilities_? Just tell me it won't interfere with our plans for school domination."

"Only the school?" James asked with a slight laugh as Remus groaned.

"Hogwarts first, then the world," Sirius laughed. "Well, Remus, don't you have some prefect-ly duty to attend to? Besides, you have to tell us who else got the shiny badges."

Remus moaned slightly. "Just try not to blow anything up this year, please. It's OWL year."

James and Sirius both grinned at each other as Remus went off towards the prefect compartment. "This is the year," they said in unison.

"We won't be blowing things up, at least. Peter, tell me you practiced over the summer," James said, turning to Peter.

"Our little Peter managed it yesterday," Sirius said proudly, stuffing his trunk and Peter's up on the overhead rack.

"And?" James said. "What'd he turn into?"

"A wee little rat," Sirius said with a laugh, as Peter turned bright pink. "That's all right, though, he can sneak under the willow that way. What'd you manage?"

"A stag, I think. I dunno, I had to sort of examine myself in the mirror," James replied. "You?"

"He's so scary," Peter spoke up just then. "Serious, I thought he'd walked out of the pages of those old folk tales…"

"I'm the Grim. The Padfoot, as it were," Sirius laughed. "This monstrosity of a dog."

"And what timing," James added, throwing his and Remus' trunks up. "Do you know what tonight is, Peter?"

"The start of term feast?" Peter said uncertainly.

"Full moon, Mr. Pettigrew, full moon," Sirius replied solemnly.

***

"Bye, guys," Remus muttered as he got up from his bed and left the room. "See you in the morning."

"Yeah," all three others chorused listlessly. Sirius tossed a Quidditch glove halfheartedly at James, who caught it easily and dropped it to the ground. Peter nibbled nervously at his thumbnail, as he watched the dorm door close behind Remus and then he turned that gaze to his cohorts.

"Give it an hour," James ordered quietly. "He goes to Madame Pomfrey at least an hour earlier than moonrise."

"So are we going before he transforms or after?" Sirius asked.

"Before," James replied. "That way we have time to explain to him, and we aren't risking letting him loose on the grounds if he goes into the passage after he's transformed."

"You reckon his voice will go up one octave or two when it penetrates his brain?" Sirius asked with a laugh.

"One," James said. "Two tomorrow morning when he realizes it actually happened."

***

They were waiting patiently at the trap door in the Shrieking Shack for about half an hour before Remus showed up.

"Guys, what the hell are you doing here?" Remus hissed, casting a panicked glance out the window. "Get out of here!"

"Nope," Sirius replied cheerfully. "Face it, Remus, you're stuck with us."

"What the hell are you thinking, are you _suicidal_?" Remus repeated in horror, his voice beginning to rise.

"Nope," James replied, folding his arms behind his head as he leaned back against the wall. "I got half the bet so far, Sirius."

"I don't think that was an octave, James," Sirius disagreed.

"Guys!"

"Shut up, Remus," James and Sirius both said in unison. "We know what we're doing."

"Guys!"

"That was definitely an octave, Seer."

***

"Ugh, you reckon he's okay?" Sirius asked his best friend as they got to their feet the morning after. "Remus?"

James looked down at his friend's battered body and frowned worriedly. "I dunno. Remus. Oy, Remus, up you get. Potions class first thing this morning – you know how you _love_ Potions…"

Remus moaned, stirring slightly as he woke up. "What the hell?!" he croaked out, jumping to his feet as he saw his friends waiting patiently nearby. "What are you doing here, why are you –"

James grinned at him. "Obviously you're all right. That's excellent. That was fun, can we do it again?"

"What?"

"Don't tell me you don't _remember_?" Sirius said in exasperation. "Honestly, Remus…"

"I don't… wait, you guys didn't…"

"Yes, Remus. Yes, we did," James said in satisfaction. "So now that we're all cool and clever, shouldn't we have a codename or something?"

"A codename?" Peter asked.

"Yeah, something to call ourselves so that people don't figure out who we're talking about," James replied, offering a wetted handkerchief to Remus as his friend tried to wipe the dried blood from his face. "You know, an alias."

"I claim Padfoot," Sirius said immediately.

"I like it. Let's go with that," James agreed. "What about for the rest of us?"

"Guys, you should go," Remus interrupted just then, voice still scratchy and hoarse. "Before Madame Pomfrey comes. You're not supposed to be here, and what you just did is slightly illegal…"

Peter whimpered under his breath as James and Sirius nodded, pulling him to his feet.

"We'll see you in Potions, Remus," James told him, pulling up the trap door to the passage. "Don't be late. You know how ol' Sluggie loves it when we're late."

Remus made a face in his general direction as he mopped his head again. "And thanks," he added, a little belatedly. "For everything."

***

"Potter, if I may have a word?" McGonagall said as she paused beside the three boys at the breakfast table. "In my office?"

"Sure, professor," James said slowly, getting to his feet with a glance at Sirius and Peter.

As they entered her office, James asked, "What's this about, Professor McGonagall?"

"I have been asked to advise you, Potter, to refrain from commencing Quidditch practices for the next little while," she said quietly. "Your parents have been spotted once more in the area, and quite frankly, you have a magnet for trouble that rivals any other student in the school's history. We believe that it is too dangerous at the moment for you to be out in such an exposed area –"

"They're not my parents," James interrupted her tersely. "They haven't been my parents since I was three years old. Who was it that made the initial decision, professor? Because I'm captain of the team, I can't just blow off Quidditch until Henri-Richard and Micheline make a mistake –"

"I did, Potter," came a familiar growl behind him.


	14. Grow Up, Potter

**A/N: **Yup. Not dead. Just really really really busy.

* * *

**Chapter 13: Grow Up, Potter**

"Moody, I thought I had asked you to leave me alone," James said. "Mum is the one who needs protection, not me."

Moody's electric blue eyes were narrowed in his direction as he entered the office. "Potter, they aren't interested in your mother. She's dying anyway. It's you they're after."

"And we've already had this discussion last year," James replied, trying to keep his cool. It would do him no good to lose his temper at Moody. It would only reinforce to Moody that he wasn't mature enough to handle this. "Do we really need to bring it up again?"

"No, I can recall what was said. The difference this time, Potter, is that we now know what they're doing. What they're planning."

James' heart stopped. "How?"

"Magical Law Enforcement brought in a young man by name of Fletcher about a week ago," Moody replied, gesturing for James to have a seat. "Nothing substantial, he's a regular thief in the London area. It seems that Fletcher had the misfortune of running into Henri-Richard and Micheline not long ago, and they let some information slip." He paused to let that sink in. "Fletcher told us that Micheline is the real mastermind behind this hunt."

"Well, _I_ could've told you that," James muttered.

"Micheline divulged certain details," Moody continued. "Fletcher says that her exact words were 'He won't see half past 16.'"

"But I'm turning 16 in December," James said shakily.

"That's not all," Moody said grimly.

"Alastor, do you really think that you need to tell Potter _everything_?" McGonagall interrupted sharply just then, shooting him a stern, warning glare.

"She also mentioned Black, Lupin and Pettigrew by name."

All warmth seemed to leave James' body as he processed that statement. Merlin, now he was dragging his friends, his _best friends_, into this nightmare… "How does she know Remus and Peter?" he asked slowly. "Sirius I get. The Blacks were in France with us. But how does she know Remus and Peter? How does she know who they are?"

Moody sighed. "We've suspected for some time that they've found some way of monitoring your activities. Likely that they've been intercepting your family's post for years. There's never been the slightest hint as to how it's being done, though."

"You mean they're _watching _me?" James asked in horror.

"Do you remember your father telling you summer before last that we thought there was somebody inside the Bureau helping them out?" Moody asked.

James nodded. "Have you found the person?" he asked.

"No," Moody replied shortly. "But now we know that there is one. There's no other possible way that they could know all that they do."

"So what's the proposed course of action?" James asked, sinking back down into his chair.

"Nothing that you need to concern yourself with, Potter," Moody said quietly. "I would just focus on your schoolwork."

"You just finished telling me that they're going after my _friends_ now, and you expect me to be able to _concentrate on schoolwork?_" James demanded angrily, jumping to his feet.

"Potter, sit _down_," McGonagall ordered.

"Well, I'm not canceling Quidditch," James announced after a tense moment, sitting back down. "No, I'm not," he added when Moody frowned at him disapprovingly.

"Potter, you're not making my job any easier," Moody started to say.

"Your job isn't supposed to be easy. Get used to it," James muttered.

* * *

"So what did McGonagall want?" Sirius asked immediately once James had rejoined them in the Potions classroom. The class was setting up to do their practical lesson, listening to Slughorn begin the explanations.

"Wasn't McGonagall who wanted to talk to me," James replied vaguely.

"So who did, then?" Sirius persisted.

"Moody," James answered, pulling out his potions kit. "Some more security issues."

"I thought Moody resigned," Sirius said with a frown, opening his textbook.

"I owled him this summer, asked him to come back and head up Mum's detail," James murmured. "Being an ass as usual and insisted that Mum didn't need him, but he'd be perfectly happy to come harass me again."

"He's in the classroom, isn't he?" Sirius asked with a grin. "Could you borrow me your silver knife for a moment?"

James passed him the knife, nodding his head. "Back of the room, probably."

"_Try across the table,"_ Moody's low mutter met their ears. _"Do your schoolwork."_

Sirius barely managed to stifle his snickers as James groaned. "He's like a conscience or something!"

"_You need one of those, Potter."_

"Guys," Remus hissed at them from the seat ahead of them. "Stop it."

"So what's going on with Henri-Richard and Micheline?" Sirius asked.

"Ugh. The usual," James replied.

"Guys, _please_," Remus begged under his breath.

"If you boys don't mind paying attention in class," Slughorn called to them pointedly. "I'm sorry to interrupt what I'm sure was a very important discussion."

"It _was_ a pretty important discussion, actually," Sirius muttered.

James laughed slightly.

"More importantly, when's Quidditch starting?" Sirius asked.

"Yes, when _is_ Quidditch starting?" Remus added, twisting around in his seat.

"Do your _work_, ickle prefect," James teased, grinning as Remus flushed slightly and rolled his eyes. "We'll start practices tonight for us, and the rest of the team can join next week."

"Tonight?" Remus asked in dismay.

"What, don't want to play?"

"Black, Lupin and Potter!" Slughorn repeated fiercely. "Five points each from Gryffindor! _Pay attention_!"

They all groaned in unison, and the other Gryffindors whirled around to glare at them.

"Come off it," Sirius grumbled. "Wasn't like we were disrupting the class."

"Well, you _do_ talk rather _loudly_," James grumbled in agreement.

"Bit rich coming from you."

"Both of you, stop it!" Remus hissed miserably. "Lily's going to give me hell tomorrow morning…"

"And wipe that smug look off your face, Moody," James muttered darkly at his bodyguard's sanctimonious silence.

* * *

"Hey, Remus, come on, look sharp!" James called again, tossing the Quaffle at his distracted friend. "We got to be top of our game. What's bothering you?"

Remus looked up just in time to get the Quaffle in his face. "Ow!" he complained, catching the ball before it fell and hurling it back at James. "What was that for?" With an angry glare, he dropped down to the pitch.

"Sheesh, touchy much today, Remus?" Sirius demanded as he took off after their friend, quickly followed by James. "What's with the post-full moon crankies? Geez, weren't we good company?"

There came an exasperated sigh of frustration from their pallid friend as he stopped at the edge of the Quidditch pitch. "You don't get it. You're never going to get it." His voice cracked slightly on the last words. "What do any of you care, anyway?"

"Remus," Sirius repeated, a twinge of irritation in his voice. "Stop being melodramatic. What's wrong?"

"Melodramatic. _Melodramatic_?" Remus demanded, throwing up his hands in a sign of defeat and heading for the change rooms.

"Oh, _Merlin_…" Sirius grumbled, looking back at James for support. "Since when did he turn into such a _girl_?"

"I am _not_ being a girl!" Remus roared. "You think this is all some sort of _game_, don't you? Like this is just another one of your damn adventures that'll be over when you tire of it? Well, I have news for you, Sirius Black, this isn't a game! This is my _life_, Sirius – it doesn't get to _be_ over!"

Sirius stopped for a moment, dumbfounded at the sudden outburst. "What the _hell_ are you going about now?"

Remus stopped at the doorway to the change rooms, his back still turned to them, and silence reigned for a few minutes. "It won't last," he finally said softly, his voice trembling.

"What?" Sirius asked blankly.

"The excitement. The adrenaline. Eventually, it's going to wear off, and you'll get bored. It's not _fun_ for me, Sirius, and you're treating it like it's some kind of game." He paused again, hand gripping the doorframe tightly. "This isn't like sneaking off to the kitchens after curfew. You're breaking _laws_, Sirius, and if anybody ever finds out what you've done… we're all getting expelled. This is _serious_, Sirius. People could _die_."

"Listen, Remus, it was not exactly _fun_ for us either," James said at last, cuffing Sirius lightly on the shoulder as he pushed Remus into the change rooms. "Sirius is just being Sirius. Besides, I think _I_ win the dangerous-friend award, because apparently you lot are now on Henri-Richard and Micheline's hit list too." With that, he bit his lip and reached for his shower kit.

"Excuse me?" Remus and Sirius both said simultaneously.

"That one deserves an explanation, it does!" Sirius called after him as James pulled the curtain across and turned on the water.

"When did you find out about this?" Remus added.

"Moody. This afternoon," James answered, his voice slightly muffled beneath the sounds of the water spray. "Apparently some lucky tramp ran across them not long ago and they were telling all. They're getting ballsy, them." He stopped as the showers on either side started up. "And I don't fancy that guy's chances of survival. Not with all he knows now."

"Mundungus Fletcher is crafty enough to give Henri-Richard and Micheline a run for their money," Moody's quiet voice echoed from the doorway of the change room. "I wouldn't write him off just yet. And if we're going to be exact, boys, they only dropped the names in conversation. There were no death threats."

"It's Henri-Richard and Micheline," James said sarcastically. "They're walking, talking death threats."

"Potter, your cynicism saddens me," Moody replied. "Lupin, Black, don't be panicking. We're keeping an eye on things. You aren't in any immediate danger."

"That's bull," Sirius spoke up. "We've always been in danger. We just haven't known it for sure. You don't think that they won't go through whomever they have to, in order to get to James? The security at the embassies isn't just to stop them from getting to him – it's to stop them from getting at anybody."

"Just… try not to let this control you, hmm?" Moody said finally.

"Oi!" James said indignantly. "How come they don't have to let it rule their lives?"

"Because Black and Lupin and Pettigrew are not the primary targets, Potter!" Moody snapped. "_You_ are a different scenario entirely! You _do_ need to abide by the protocols, because you know what'll happen if they get to you."

There was silence in the room. The boys all emerged from the showers dressed in their school robes again, and James said quietly, "I _do_ know what'll happen. And I know that half their power comes from the fear. I can't live with that sort of fear anymore, Moody, or it will destroy me. They have to see that they don't hold that power over my life." He shoved his Quidditch gear into the duffel and slung it over his shoulder. "I'm sorry that it goes against all your security whatevers, but what they might do to me if they catch up to me isn't their focus. They want me terrified, and I won't give them that."


End file.
